Village Idiot Publishing
(C) 2000 Diary of a Spirit
LUCIDITY
The cost of wisdom, what will it be.
When it's plucked ripe, straight from the tree.
Will it bring gladness, or sorrow to no end?
The cost of freedom of thought is sharp,
But who will pay the price.
Life is so precious, but lost in the quest.
Children destroyed, families made destitute;
But when is payment in full.
Can wisdom truly profit, or just isolate?
Will it fill one with fear, when a delusion is reviled?
What then will vain conversation suffice.
What does it mean, to know all things?
And know who the devil is, for real.
Can you walk in a pit, where no life abides?
And keep from being defiled.
Will sanity abound, where madness is circumscribed;
Or will it force you to live in a lie.
So many years, and I see no end,
And I question why wisdom is mine.
A deafening price, I pay for this light,
And still no answer in sight.
What cost is wisdom, when it comes from within,
And how much can I pay, and remain sane.
There is no end to that which is real,
For eternity, is logic, which never ends.