Sanctity of purpose
Sanctity of purpose
Scarcity of rhyme
Mixed up notions amble
On in spite of time
Keep the truth handy
Glove compartment, insecure
A revolver in the digits
Carousels we all procure
In the name of seeking thrills
Coconut and shy
Bowled over for a coin
The gamble is a lie
In which hope discloses promise
But promise is away
Dancing on the syntax
Dancing the words away
And yet the rabbit bounces
From the top hat every night
It's ears getting longer
Retires a hare, a deformed sight
Smoking clowns skulk in shadows
Masked, invisible
Craving the gallows
Drenched sponges shed their fill
Til the ground becomes a river
Swollen, running on
The tears a tributary
Emotion flows, is gone
And purpose is a felled tree
Rolling toward the drop
As the waterfall gathers momentum
To lead to go, lead to stop
(rot).
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