enter in to occular appraisal - section two: version seven - "drunkard on the withering bank"

on a mound of black dust
is the keeper who must
be of duty and goodwill divine
though his courage is clear
his fictitious veneer
is preceded by holy combine
though in separate tunes
the lioness fumes
o'er cavorting and lamenting loons
while her partner will sleep
under whispering trees
dreaming of dead and dying cocoons
their shells hardly made
in wallowing shade
while the underside melts in the sun
and the lives of the dead
never living an age
have no value to prides of the youth
they are timid and breathless today
they are silent and ne'er the astray
they are loners in god's holy day



these are melancholy times, you said. i didn't understand what the former had meant in reference to the conversation at hand. we had only been discussing the day to day, trivial in its nature. but you came out of no where with such melodramatic verse. i told you i didn't understand. no one does, you said. no one does. though the spirits begged to be taken more seriously than yourself, that much is true.


dear god what are you even saying? let's be perfectly plain here: what is it that happens to us when we die? i have the feeling that my mind tells me it's something grand, that i'll be living my life in a subconscious state, thinking and feeling freely that which i've always wanted. a neverending dream. though there's the slight chance i may spend the rest of all eternity burning unmercifully in the bowels of hell for all time. though with the latter i find myself not as worried as the normal, god-fearing man may be. for one, i know that won't be the case. it's impossible. and for two, if it is the case, well, i know i'll be spending it there with you. right? did you really think you'd get off that easily? luckily we won't have to worry about that. but what if, on the off chance, nothing happens? then what? who's the winner in this cosmic game of eternal roulette? who's the one to say, well, i told you so? does it really matter? there's been a levity in my step since accepting what i've come to believe. and, like i said, if i'm wrong, well, i know you'll be right there with me.