I'm banished from the world I know, and cast into darkness. And I sit within a lonely room, accepting starkness. The plain and empty walls and floors have nothing left to say. I'll venture any way I want, but must remain a stray. I'm not expecting sympathy. I know that hour is gone. I only want it to be known I've wandered all along.
the moon remains high, unchased by the sunrise, but gone by daydream's end
When time stopped behaving, I should have known that war was coming - perhaps, something worse. Those who saw themselves sinless grabbed their stones, and started chanting bile -- their wicked curse. The hopeless cried with wide eyes, but in vain as they were huddled around burning fires. The best of us opted to go insane, and build crude armor from old belts and tires. We'd flank a castle that did not exist like Don Quixote, tilting at windmills. Better to charge a false monster and miss than to have Folly chase one to the hills. Who says it's worse to slouch to lunacy than suffer the world's fury lucidly?
a potted bonsai -- twisted, knobbed, and deformed -- stony mountain mind
There was a durian seller from K.L. asked to leave the market 'cause of the smell. "Buyers 'll find you with ease from the scent of bad cheese," said the contrite landlord in his farewell.
The Medea of Euripides by Gilbert Murray
Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,
Romeo & juliet: act 2, scene 2
Oh, moon, slip cautiously across the night. They whispered to the sun to murder you. So, slink way down before the sun takes flight, 'fore that proud body can make much ado.
