(written while listening to "Air on the G string"- by J.S. Bach)
Lead me to beauty
On drops of tears cried for aeons
Towards creation absoluted from the sin of perfection
An art subtly brute
Cracked from the pressures of being
Enduring change in instants of frailty
Perfected to human
Tuned to the abyss
Of atrocities too quickly forgotten
It's not about beauty
It never was nor will be
Don’t let me hope
For hope is the most dangerous craft
Too wilfully executed
In all its Minervic pride
Of victories mind-sought.
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