Be still the world of the thought,
Laying sacrifical upon the tongue--
I can utter no truth,
I can utter no lie,
And so I remain quiet
In my deliberation,
But the is not demure beauty,
Or lacey, doe-eyed innocence--
But the absence of a better way.
Catch the knife before it falls,
Let it not be done so,
For the blade indeed is dull
And rusty,
And I have earned to right
To a proper hanging--
Still, I hold the wisdom,
Checked upon my lips,
No longer willing to dare,
For I will not be made a fool of
Any longer,
But there is no grace abound,
Except the idle kind,
And I grasp the meaning all too late.
I have stepped quietly in quicksand,
And struggle not against it,
But against myself,
Muted by circumstance,
When I should be liberated now--
Can you pass the puzzle this way,
So I might know what is to be done,
Because all the safety nets are broken,
And I fear that I shall fall,
At a moments notice--
But the lamb does not go quietly,
And neither, my dear, shall I.
Laying sacrifical upon the tongue--
I can utter no truth,
I can utter no lie,
And so I remain quiet
In my deliberation,
But the is not demure beauty,
Or lacey, doe-eyed innocence--
But the absence of a better way.
Catch the knife before it falls,
Let it not be done so,
For the blade indeed is dull
And rusty,
And I have earned to right
To a proper hanging--
Still, I hold the wisdom,
Checked upon my lips,
No longer willing to dare,
For I will not be made a fool of
Any longer,
But there is no grace abound,
Except the idle kind,
And I grasp the meaning all too late.
I have stepped quietly in quicksand,
And struggle not against it,
But against myself,
Muted by circumstance,
When I should be liberated now--
Can you pass the puzzle this way,
So I might know what is to be done,
Because all the safety nets are broken,
And I fear that I shall fall,
At a moments notice--
But the lamb does not go quietly,
And neither, my dear, shall I.



