A Toilets Rim
Perishes in time the meaning of our lives
Instilling things from a darkness of shadow,
But who did bless this miracle, the complexity of thought and dream
Under the question from ones conscience;
Strange it is when truth is breached
By a thousand souls descendant
And the drip from my toilets rim
At times we are callous to changes in ourselves
Though deep it is in thought and perception,
Until the sanctity our intent inspired
Is characterized by the solitude within;
Speak the lines in reflected reason
Here deep with faiths intent
Under the drip from my toilets rim
Do not desert from what lays instilled
The ancient deceptive oracle,
For there is no explanation to complexities, or the isolation of its decent
Into that moral servitude;
Listen to the knowledge in the words we speak
When questioned are our thoughts applied
To that drip from my toilets rim
Copyright © Mark Norton | Year Posted 2016
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