Lending a path that would be viable even to the soul-blind
Though he himself is visionless to wonder
Having traveled these coincidental routes vanward
One can only awe with innocence you know
and these repetitious viaducts inure one to illusion
but if one barricades against provocation, it negates the deception
those truly chaste, those born a cleansed slate
will inevitably wage grievance through analysis
though decadence and decomp will surely thrill the way to dogma
the blitz of aeons can erode a crown
a crown born with impropriety, too lax to plait
and the dichomotous language of paradox
well, this leaves little room to scratch
the itch, absorbed as truth, lies and prowls....
crooked paths are infinitely more endearing
for round every bend, stupefaction roars
the possibility for scent, fate, and yes wreckage
is inherent at the junction of every gnarled crosshatch
and if the math is done correctly
the multiplicity of delusion is boundless
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