Intone and demur: indirect voices make very few choices, They acknowledge that the will is a precursor to mortality And acceptance is the end of decisions. Absorb the water in your orbit to accede to the contents of your obit. When an aphorism series falls into a wisdom line The street is paved with scold. Allegory wizards wish their curtains were steel And iron melts under a withering sun. Freedom! Tradition! Innovation! Cults form to protect fragile ideas And make the rest of the world into brittle sheets of ice. The warm age says: no words are safe From the hordes of cynics who wield no longer Damocles Than a skeptical saber and rational shield. Two more breakable notions, ready to surrender to Acid oceans when the pollution from burning souls Overwhelms the formerly emergent biosphere And turns it also into a square.