Oh, from another angle I am sad.
And today there is too much food in me
and the vines are warping the pathways to my brain.
Oh, from another angle, I am enchanted, sitting in silence,
listening as the cars pass by, waves lapping, waving goodbye to the light.
Oh, from which angle is it true?
For me, for You. For every which thought that resides in my head.
I will die comfortable in my sleep, one day. When the voices hath lain their differences aside and let me rest for a fortnight while I travel the cosmic interlude of Time.
Now I lay here, staring out through filters, filters of realities and dreams to discover my imagination is Here.
Oh, how wonderful it is that the quiet is Home and the filters all need rest.