The Pulse of Misguidance

Stories reign supreme and do explain

How men spoil their lives to fallacy.

The solipsist dreams their malady

Born of a mother who picked a name.

Thousands chanted, synced with Apollo

On his chariot through the obscure.

The music from skies signalling fire

Remains in the dazzling caw of crow.

Beware, ye vandalizing redtail

Disheartening the proud and lively.

At fate’s crossing, bones of ivory

Bear the hammer to drive the last nail.

In seasick drunkenness you were found

And saved by the one you led astray.

The wicked mirror does not betray

Its original broken glass sound.

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