Socrates

Socrates

The sage
in a
room

Burns himself
oil and
ink

The endless
pages

Of thought
which shine

Only to
him though

Drawn into
this light
everyday

Becomes a
mystery

To Nature

The storm
buildin
outside

Callin out
for the
darkness

The spears
come in

Out comes
a soul

With blood
on the
floor

The huge
gush inside

Reveals a
diamond

Nor a
thought

Not a
remorse

The diamond
gone

Here lies
“Socrates”

Caution: This might be all theory

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