Dancing aross the moonlit sky
We shine like a torch in a cave
We sing praises to beings
That others have forgotten
In candle lit rooms
In circes of salt
We offer up smoke of all kinds
Hoping it will lead us closer to truth
Truth
Ever elusive like a neglegent father
Ever staring off into the unkown
While we vie desperately for his attention
Playing deadly games to win his favor
But he doesn't know us
And we never really can know him
For the little truths we discover
Change ever so slightly based on the perciever
And yet often we wonder
Why so many disagree with us
Many of us wish
For the passage of nebulas
To parade in front of thier eyes
But they keep forgetting
That as much as those we call upon
Are personifications of ideas
So are we
Perhaps we seem a little more complicated
To ourselves
But all we really are
Are variations on the same few themes
A soundtrack thats getting old quickly
I'm fairly certain that soon
Someone will put on a new recording
~Matt Magus
P.S. The title of this poem comes from a line in a poem called "Doves Suck", by Micha Estlack, written sometime between 1993 and 1995, I'm not sure exactly when...~M
