I never had a hand in anything. And it scares me. |
Once, I journeyed alone, in this village of monochrome Death, in his silky black robe and all his friends, sitting on Filthy garden tombs as they watch A game of chess against a gallant knight, who never ever believed in God. ''Who knows?'' utters the Idiot Cow, as he devours a piece- this Idiot Cow Further in the misty mountaintops- A sillhouette truly worthy, Of considerable glee. That a man spoon and his wife fork, share the moment's romantic solitude. Though I come nearer to steal a glance, the cascading moonlight in the rivers dance. Thought with shame, I am to admit How foul my intentions had been. And the fresh scent of rain and smoke- a swirling tempest of doubt shook, as the Idiot Cow approached me and declared, ''How could that be?'', in a tone of idiocracy, ''How the plot twists and turns, and sends would-be lovers and demote them as friends?'' ''Well-'', my voice somewhat serious and stern, ''I hope Cow, that they shall never inject any desire into my concern''... Just before the exit of this monochrome town, is a theme park of excellent renown, and braved myself to enter the world, that only in childish fantasies are ever told, And hold the fabrics of my imagination. But this dreamland only helped me realize, how hard it is, for me, to decide. If I am to feel disappointment or relief, to think that my dreamland are only machines, Mere machines run by human- And not by the human mind. ''What now?'', asks this Idiot Cow. ''Idiot Cow, like my mind you are fickle, sometimes correct, othertimes wrong. Impulsive I am and never strong'', I said in a surprising prophetic voice. ''Though it is in the mind in which choice, hops about and waiting to get caught, I never had the courage to extend my arm and make him all my own...'' |