They can try

they try to shut the door in front of me

they try to shed light along the path so that

I cannot see

they try to train me in terms of their terrible terminologies

they try to wake me up to be, but I am ever-asleep

they speak in reality- but I’d rather speak in dreams

in incoherent tongues where wisdom flows

freely it rests gently as unintelligible means

and means meant more than the words so over-spent

and stripped from what they ever were we barely recognise

them anymore. Is honesty a brick already crumbled

while its dust hangs in the air?

 

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