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