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