Don't let god send you afloat.
Sometimes we forget where our minds are headed
when you ask the unknown
to be our seer.
If I am to be rich one day,
please just let me bathe in clay.
A model of the structure I'll surely create.
For with freedom comes a need to extend this blessing into hate.
My god
you have learned to age.
Spending our days
withering away.
I haven't the faintest clue who my creator is.
Art does not know of its painter.
I am unknowing,
and so I Am ThereFore AlL KnowING.
In a world with nothing
but self-manifested clues
comes a reality I can stick together
only with glue.
Let me bathe and soak
in all but the sun.
My riddle for you
is that we have already won.
