RGB 75 NOISE 08 -200 brightness +noise + blurn dark


And what to my mind did appear...

Dread. It stood around me in groups, or sometimes alone.

What could there possibly be that would grow thoughts of
annihalation where I had hoped to feel a different sensation.

From decades ago the memory of a wedge that split seasoned cords of oak,
to put on the fire and vigorously stoke.
The wedge, shining from a thousand poundings spliting
with a top once perfect
now with edges rolled and bent. We take dowm magnificant oaks
that grow just for us, to warm by fire and
or make walls beautiful and placed to protect and warm.

But wedges can be the making of catastrophe
if driven blindly into chords of friends
and ties that bind splinter with bloody force.
Broken chords major and minor that once sang harmony now
horde power and lucre among the shattered cords that bound for the walls made of oak can hide without amends minds that are torn as a wedge is driven and kills.

Why, I ask are you blind as a bat and hear no one but yourself and others as blind as you.
Then I think, when makes men weap inside that they cannot see, or hear of feel.
It is most simple as POTUS for what one sees by looking very carefully and hearing his unintended silences.
He knows he does not know anything, but bullying and lieing, it us what he has followed through life. He cannot critique except his praise, for that is all he knows how to ask for.
Deep in his bowls there nothing but fear that one day is he is found,
to be empty.

Powered by SmugMug Owner Log In