Oracle Poem by Arik Fletcher
Oracle
I speak the word of prophets
in my own profanity,
I find the book of answers
to lack all consistency,
I know the way of virtue
in its true simplicity,
I wear the cloak of beauty
to mask my depravity,
I hold the key to knowledge
of a great antiquity,
I walk the line of madness
at the edge of sanity,
I stare into the void
of our species' destiny,
I hear the ticking clock
of my own humanity.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/26/2024 12:08:49 PM # 1.0.0.1119
