Tales of US

Deep down,in the recesses of the mind,
Lies the vine that is entrenched and entwined.
Seep,seep the waters flow,as though
In a voice that cries low- weep weep it goes.
The corner,flooded and blinded,spells
The TROUBLED and BINDED.
It crawls,it creeps,in the enigma of the night.
It confuses,it dazzles,culminating in the going of the light.

Such are our thoughts,our imagination,our realm of limitation.
They restrict,they bound,they cripple.

Impossible that they should mark our downfall.
Yet they offer such glorious pitfalls.
We fall into their allure,for we are not tall-
We are flesh,we are blood,we are fallible parts.

To err is to blur,the boundaries of the queer.
Know ourselves?We don't! Take to the beer.

No more pathos,no more ethos,gone is the morrow.
Left merely the sorrow.