The journey to self is a silent war, so it's now or never no more,
Better settle the score before the ravens can soar;
-Decomposing discords, a Wes Craven like score,
That can perpetually color life light shades of Iron ore.
So be one with the sword and sharpen it sheathless,
swing with it frequent, 'til Death reaps what it's sewn up in pieces.
This poem at it's weakest can't be grasped through a thesis,
Because experience is laryngitic in nature- leaving you speechless.
Now where was I? Ah yes, the aforementioned-
Hindsight is 20/20 when in a state of retention;
Like a string of pearls unfurled- the wisdoms within it's lessons,
Shedding light upon it's own darkness like a moon when it crescents.
The Learning curve is hilted.
©Krishna Volk 2009