Mornings are looney;
Their words are mere,
So I rendered in to the silence.
Clear thoughts, night walks, and a penny for the curious name.
Could you find your own identity, and cut the act of integrity,
In which of none you marry?
Thou shalt worry not;
For I am who I am,
And so are you.
Away, deep into the reflective lake I go,
Along with my thoughts, where they remain buried in twos.
