Garbled gibberish from some unfathomable recesses of me.
There's words for anything you might dream,
though you may never write or speak them properly.
Perhaps there is a magical combination of the choicest of these seemingly infinite logos,
Forming the proper logotypes,
Which in proper order could enable anyone to
Know and to
Feel and to
Love and to
Understand for himself God's myriad wonders.
Though I could never give utterance.
Is it my tongue that lacks the tact?
Is the essence of my communication damned the moment I set out to speak it?
Far more likely that I'll never understand fully through meager words.
If some could read my looks,
and I theirs,
If they could absorb my deepest thought through my eyes,
and I theirs,
I'd have it.
Even the darkest secrets which we're afraid to let anyone know
would never be subject to the same heartless scrutiny through such an honest medium.
Selfishness would no longer be served.
The mistakes you'd made, the pain you'd felt, the humiliations you'd endured,
they'd overwhelm your judges.
To empathize would no longer be voluntary.
Your condition would not be far from anyone.
Those who'd have you condemned would fall around your neck and weep.
In forming words for your judges, you throw mice to tigers.
They insidiously hunger for your explanations.
They feel no remorse for their plight.
They paw and tear at every little one.
They chew incessantly their refutation.
It is to fill their bellies.
It is to fuel their pride.
It is to assert their power.
It is to further their control.
Do not speak then, as no defense will ever do.
There is no understanding to be found within them,
They await their turn in amusement.
If you extend your arm over the wall, if you lean out, if you hang over to reach them,
They'll pull you in.
though you may never write or speak them properly.
Perhaps there is a magical combination of the choicest of these seemingly infinite logos,
Forming the proper logotypes,
Which in proper order could enable anyone to
Know and to
Feel and to
Love and to
Understand for himself God's myriad wonders.
Though I could never give utterance.
Is it my tongue that lacks the tact?
Is the essence of my communication damned the moment I set out to speak it?
Far more likely that I'll never understand fully through meager words.
If some could read my looks,
and I theirs,
If they could absorb my deepest thought through my eyes,
and I theirs,
I'd have it.
Even the darkest secrets which we're afraid to let anyone know
would never be subject to the same heartless scrutiny through such an honest medium.
Selfishness would no longer be served.
The mistakes you'd made, the pain you'd felt, the humiliations you'd endured,
they'd overwhelm your judges.
To empathize would no longer be voluntary.
Your condition would not be far from anyone.
Those who'd have you condemned would fall around your neck and weep.
In forming words for your judges, you throw mice to tigers.
They insidiously hunger for your explanations.
They feel no remorse for their plight.
They paw and tear at every little one.
They chew incessantly their refutation.
It is to fill their bellies.
It is to fuel their pride.
It is to assert their power.
It is to further their control.
Do not speak then, as no defense will ever do.
There is no understanding to be found within them,
They await their turn in amusement.
If you extend your arm over the wall, if you lean out, if you hang over to reach them,
They'll pull you in.