/lit/ - Literature

O Form! O Muse! The inescapable
Intractable
Desire of our hearts.

To know! Everything at once and nothing at all
To know that we are small
Yet that we are big enough to change that which the gods themselves
Cannot

O Form! O Muse! An arm extended
Not in friendship
Not in praise
Not in compassion

But, with a gaze that captures my heart,
In subtleq command

To see! That which no man,
No angel,
No demon, can
And yet to be completely blinded by our own piteous desires

O Form! O Muse! That we may be
Forever as children
Concerned with nothing but the immediate
For ever as we grow older
Does the caul grow thicker over our eyes

To taste! O to taste the thick and heady scent
Of the sweat of our brows
To know that we have never deserved anything
More than that which we have ever striven toward

O Form! O Muse! You know me
As no-one knows me
You know that no truer words than these
Have ever been
Will ever be
Cannot be
Spoken by me

O Devil within me,
The dichotomy of being,
I need not your guidance, and I banish you
With the pounding of my fists, the timbre of my raised voice,
The rattle of my tambourine, and the love of my friends

And so, O Form, O Muse,
I leave you
For neither do I need you to govern the beauties and simplicities
Of my life

For to know you, is to revel in the fact that you are superfluous
That in fact, I need no guiding light
I know my name
And my name is
Man.

also, all yall muthalickas read this in Old Gregg's voice