En a perfect World,
Ev’ryman’s childhood is an Age of Gold
Wherein the sum of creation is beheld
Thru lenses tinted rose

In Illo Tempore

It is an Age en which Grandfather nev’r takes 2 his bed
And the Junky plays it straight

{Tapping A Good Vein On The Lower Left Arm – Twice}

Clean veins, clear head!

{One-Beat Pause}

It is an Age en which candles shine
And rarely, if ever, flicker

But we grey leopards know better, do we not?

We know the bitterness that lies beyond the gilded illusion
We know the sponge of vinegar offered at the close of the Age
We know (o, so well) how candles flicker

Regardless of Circe’s temperament
Regardless of whether or not she calls the winds 2 blow forth

{One-Beat Pause}

This crag of bitterness, we are bound 2 approach
And approach it we must
And approach it we do

This great mystery of Life,
Its most masterful trick –
The moment when one becomes two

Courting angels of
Lust, Fear, Jealously, and Conflict

[The Vox Of Ev’ryman Aside.]
O, how tyme flies
When your crown, above the clouds, gloomily hangs
And your heels are rooted
2 the steppes of that which will be lost and nev’r found again

© LogosVox 2014