I prefer your muse
when she spins you a tale,
takes us down a new path
carved with comfortable light
from a candle we'd oft
forgot moved as we walk
that shines light were we go
when when it's no longer night.
-Prof. Tim
-----Original Message-----
From: joe dees <joedees@bellsouth.net>
To: virus@lucifer.com <virus@lucifer.com>
Date: Thursday, March 04, 1999 11:24 PM
Subject: virus: The Tempest (for Reed)
>A man was sitting upon a chair
>In a red rut shotgun shed
>Chin on palm and a thousand mile stare
>hearing voices inside his head.
>"TRY and ignore us!" the voices cried
>As the thunderheads mushroomed dark and wide
>"We will NOT be bottled here up inside."
>As the cannon boomed o'erhead.
>
>"We know your soul's triumphs and despairs"
>As the wind-whipped rafters moaned
>"And the depths of the good and the evil there"
>As foundations creaked and groaned.
>"We know all the things that you've never tried"
>As dark torrents drenched the world outside
>"And where lost years have blown."
>
>"You know we know and you know we care"
>As the lightning fell all aground
>"Because we're YOU!" And though thunder blared
>The little man heard not a sound.
>And though blast and brilliance raged through the blind
>O'ershadowed they were by his raging mind
>As his thoughts of things lost, and left behind
>Spun him wond'ring round and round.
>Joe E. Dees
>Poet, Pagan, Philosopher
>
>
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