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