CHARADE
There are veins that splinter out towards the edge of aging leaves
They multiply, divide, they spread thin, they split and sprout
like seeds
We as flesh and wits gather facts and grow as weeds
The more knowledge one retains
The more discomfort wisdom reads
We strain the days away; bookish sights, nurtured theory
A worthy kind of tread that can paint the clock quite dreary
Despite what some may say
Intelligence may be weighed by how sightless one can stray
To give shade, to becloud, to cast black the scathing grey
To refute your sullied threads
Deny your bandaged hands
Be the one that makes me young and read life as it began
Scrap judgment, scrap culture, scrap the crick of modern day
See only what you wish, see it all, shun the fiends away
There's a brighter side in darkness; from night stars pluck the strings
The music, the wind, the whisper of brave wings
See your windowed heart reflected
Ask not of what it brings
Be blind to heated kings
Deaf to demon screams
Be groundless
Be foolish
See beauty in all things