The heavens smile with uncertainty as I decide to hurl a ginormous stone of unwoven ideas into that vast gaping hole called the Confederation of the World Wide Web. Yeah, it could spell disaster, well actually I hope it does, our world lies in peril as we head towards a closing black hole where the mind’s eye slowly relinquishes power. It does so, NOT because it wants to, it does so because the need for the mind’s eye is assumed to be of no consequence in these recent times of these recent days.

Artists are dying as popularity becomes more and more popular every rising Sunday.

The artist, he says, “I can find no dough, I can find no bread. The passion inside seers through, leaving just bones, leaving just bones…”.

His mind’s eye, he says, slowly unravels new truths, but his mind’s eye he says, warns of uncovering untruths.

My eyes they blame the hidden justice, just as yours, they blame injustice in plain sight.

Every waking hour in this world of limitless wonders, I blame my hostility as I limit my adventures.

An Artists’s pledge thus I take, and when I say hello please don’t say Goodbye.



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