Murmurs of Aspiration — 4

This vile wine taints.

To what purpose? To arm a poet and lover with the sword of action!
To what end? To thrust away a child who does not let go of your bosom, to take eyes that see you alone and cast it into pit of the world.

Is music sweetest only when sounded amidst cacophony? Is virtue always set amidst the seat of vice?

Today, today I become child.

I need no pittance of knowledge, or wisdom, or desire..take it now. Thou dost deceive me with baubles of time.

Take it all away.

Come now, Mother of my self.

Come now. Snatch me away from time.

(Picture Courtesy imgur)