A poem I just wrote.

[Brandybuck]

This textual illusion

All its pain and confusion

This blankly straying plight

Postpones your lying, failing sight

And this night high

Doth don me nigh

For severance, anxiety

And… you wish to quiet me?

Contrarily I deny you

The words for me, for silence, too

It’s how to say, to think, to ask

I follow you unto, alas,

Disease and dawning break

For thou hast endured mine to take

You hypocrites, how see you now?

You cursed the light that sight allowed

And now with but a flickering flame

Lest fire you pursue to tame

You curse the fuel, you fuel its fame

Chilling laugh, uttereth a name

The name to love, the name to curse

You lying coward, fool immersed

You tame the jay and curse the raven

Your faults and flights lay hidden; latent

You mold beneath society

Yet I still hold propriety

Boastfully cursing the human race

Hast though yet seen vendetta’s face?

Yeah, yeah, Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

These things happen after a fifth straight day of rehearsal for a William Shakespeare play, and staying up until midnight listening to British Electronica.