Aesop and The Cyclops

Mystified eyes
Glide high, to gaze
Upon all the sides
That one might survey
Past mountains on high
Through perpendicular plains
Over bottomless pits
Disguised by the haze

And the horizon, still surviving
Bathed in warm sun rays
‘Til the moon takes its place
On the end of days,
But nature’s memory will stay
The melody still plays
In my mind, all the time
It will forever remain

Its reign creeps across the sand
With two cloven hooves
Beside the enemy of man
Dressed up like wolf
In the disguise of wise man
With his eyes on the prize, and
Then coveting what you’ve got
And it’s not surprising

How easily you’re convinced
Since he offered you assistance
Until the evil in him grows
To show the substance in this
Mixture of pure, unadulterated
Mischieve-ness
Hope some wraith answers your
Prayers and Christmas lists

Yet, since this wish
Is the only thing bringing
Your desired utopia
If you await its coming
There’s no hope for ya
As it doesn’t take a sleuth
To provide the proof
That their third eye’s
Been blinded by non-truths

So spit in the eye drops
Of your symbolic Cyclops
Taking a risk,
Traveling up that bean stalk
Illustrating sound waves
To see the way I talk
And won’t stop ‘til the last drop’s
Through my hourglass clock

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~ by Té on February 23, 2010.

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