Tis a bliss and yonder Morn!
When all that we bemoan are the sounds of chirping birds,
Loudly echoing their gains and losses
We drift away in our wallow pitfalls and merry follies
And dance away our sorrow to the peculiar stirs of the broth!
The broth emanating from the strums of the stringed instrument
That foretells the fortune of love and war
A beast to pacify a beauty.
A Nemo to pacify a Great White.
In our irregularities we find clarity.
Clarity to drive our insanity
And prove that, we also have cause to jubilate
These lines are but an adjoining of rumblings
Fit only to make meaning in the crevices of minds;
So duly apportioned to embrace the "nonsense" of life
So calm your pacing hearts and massage your interest-lost faith
The journey has just began.
