The Philosopher's Sonnet
Others are born, the lost are burried
Life is a journey not to be hurried
But whats wit if the wise are mute
And who is beauty if she is not yet born
Mom said to not sugar
But if she is to be believed
Then pigs do fly, and wings lie
The plains, they speak of a time long gone
Dad said to not blow my horn.
But tomorrow took my horn, so why say he
The preacher said death is an illusion
Then where is grandpa?
The night is so dark and cold.
But i shall wait for another sunrise.
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