Art Inevitably Poem by Leon Moon

'Art is pointless
If it is not tricking the good
And collecting their gorps,
It is for our best interest
To preserve this eternal corpse! '

i.e the one true place

after the prestige of solitude
has waned
and mutual understandings
between stranded hearts isn't enough
to glorify or impart
then the function of intention is clear
between the spheres
of the immortal gears
that strike metal cells;
blooded walls of afterthought
and no proof pain was caught,
we are simply drawing circles
and proving they can inhabit any shape
and they are the truer circles all the same.