The Terse and the Breviloquent

Tear down these walls about me; kick down your doors remove your shoes and shatter the feeble plate glass with sight alone regardless I will take these feet to the mountain top in good order to serenade the lonely stars whether your prison be highest of heights or the decent of abyss dark and without light it matters not I will still be compelled to live by right and to dance in the wind

your buildings fade away; stair case disappear even as I command them I should think shall be around about and never quite agreed dotting the moisture in the empty airs passing each cold infused morning by the sea


Sometimes, KJ, to "live by right and to dance in the wind" is all we CAN do, no?

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