I am dumbstruck, with a vengeance.
But what am I to say to those who have gone before me?
Where do they lie now? I cannot truly see.
I must permit myself to see, or I simply cannot be.
Yet somehow I find myself waiting, waiting for the glee.
What the hell?
But I must wait, I tell myself, even if I disagree.
What foul atrocities!
In considering the atrocities, I could not help but obscenely quake.
Inside myself, I find myself shaking.
I see cabbages and kings and all sorts of peculiar things.
I must live.
What the hell?
Leave now, I say, or begone with you.
I have been dumbstruck, with a vengeance!
So therefore, I must permit myself to say a word or two.
A word or two to you or you and me or you.
What the hell?
Please consider this in earnest, erstwhile I may die.
Then go away and save yourself, farewell, cheerio, good-bye.
I know I am not making sense, but that is meant to be.
Have I lost myself again? I sincerely apologize.
What foul atrocities!
And there lies too many things beyond the realm of slime that I cannot remember.
And there I wait for you to come along.
I find myself lost among the stars.
I do not know who you are.
But speak not of this, this act you are considering.
Go away, and leave me in peace, that I may live my death.
For all of life, I find myself persuaded by the dust.
What the hell?
Thank you. I think you understand.
In considering the foul atrocities, I must say you don't sound too well.
Copyright © 2002 by Decmerion P. Newhamstershire, Esq. and Bewildering Stories.