Still at it...

[fosterkain]

Bound up in the bondage of presupposition
Mind's flesh chafed by cords assuming
What can I know, suspended over truth
The rough, uneven turf beneath
My safety net, sweet indifference
Towards the freedom to know

But your words slash my Gordian knots
Cut me loose from ignorant presumption
You're waving from above and I tumble
Free-fall through wide stretches of perspective
Open air whistles past my listening ears
The song of clarity overwhelmed by information

Falling, I care, and holes in my net
Rip asunder protection as I knew it
What keeps me from plummeting
Into the rough, uneven turf of truth

Nothing.

Oh well.