Two lives, colliding intentions:
One life of the mundane,
One life of inventions.
Always, the sliding
Towards the habits of the insane,
The life I’m deriding.
The search for prevention:
My want will not wane
For the shift in attention.
Tired of the hiding
Amongst ordinary and plain,
I would halt this colliding
If this sudden detention
Of thoughts less than sane
Guaranteed my retention
Of what I’m confiding
I could never feign.
I find myself siding
With my only suspension:
A joyous refrain,
One artistic intention.
The time has been biding;
Now waiting is slain.
Now it’s coinciding,
This tricky convention;
It follows the strain,
Removes apprehension.
One life of the mundane,
One life of inventions.
Always, the sliding
Towards the habits of the insane,
The life I’m deriding.
The search for prevention:
My want will not wane
For the shift in attention.
Tired of the hiding
Amongst ordinary and plain,
I would halt this colliding
If this sudden detention
Of thoughts less than sane
Guaranteed my retention
Of what I’m confiding
I could never feign.
I find myself siding
With my only suspension:
A joyous refrain,
One artistic intention.
The time has been biding;
Now waiting is slain.
Now it’s coinciding,
This tricky convention;
It follows the strain,
Removes apprehension.
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