Varoeldur

Varoeldur. Minas Tireth. The three

gate gorge dam, the pickled raspberry

jam that stifles under the delectability

of its feeder called sugar.

Good old Sam, he's certainly wise.

Sapiens - often preceded by Homo -

who decided we were we were wise?

We who culled the hands that feed us,

hands that feed us, cut them loose

from the arms that delude us.

Wise. Sapiens. Same, same, but

different.

This vent has served

its purpose, jumbled as a circus,

a lack of pattern to fulfil us,

no message to satisfy or ring to bind us.

Why this eclectic mix of nothingness and

Lord of the Rings

references?

Who Knows?

Maybe Gandalf.

Oliver Hodges