Is brevity not the soul of wit
So why then dilute the words which we spit
Is it perchance some performative urge
Some selfish ambition to a little longer be heard
What cause do we have to slight our creations
If not entitlement to our meaningless station
Am I not but a jester who wears a tin crown
Yet speaks of it as gold with the hope that my mouth is not bound
IF I were to answer you
As you would, my soul would soar
Like the lark from earth-born eyes,
Soar and hide in far-off skies,
Soar and come to mortal view
Nevermore.
Whatsoever chance befall,
Of myself I'd die possest.
If they hold a willing mind
......
Is brevity not the soul of wit
So why then dilute the words which we spit
Is it perchance some performative urge
Some selfish ambition to a little longer be heard
What cause do we have to slight our creations
If not entitlement to our meaningless station
Am I not but a jester who wears a tin crown
Yet speaks of it as gold with the hope that my mouth is not bound
IF I were to answer you
As you would, my soul would soar
Like the lark from earth-born eyes,
Soar and hide in far-off skies,
Soar and come to mortal view
Nevermore.
Whatsoever chance befall,
Of myself I'd die possest.
If they hold a willing mind
......