Dedication to line

Be quiet. There is little to say. Much to write. Plenty to sing. And only one listener of consequence. Move back from that which you wouldn't have been close to in times previous. These things alter line and cloud objective. The enemies of clarity, these multitudes are.

So now in the age of killable offenses, are the things you say you need needed? Of course, it's yes and no. And we know the pitfalls of yes and the provision of no. The temporal state of yes and the perpetual state of the provisioning.

We, the duality coalesced of the field marshal and architect. We know the objective. Our enterprise is operandi. We know the modus. Where is the D in D.S.P. in the quest of P.L.V and The Valeethian Wheel Works? Are we still building the foundries of the mind? Are not the fires still lit? Are not the motions towards objective first emotive? What world is built that was not first imagined?

So we keep our mouths shut from utterance beyond need. We hide glee for the privileged and the provisioning. And I, just a small quiet player, back straight, shoulders broad, and standing in array with the wrestlers. Mercurial and bristling with power. I am nothing but a thankful and temporal disturbance in the fabric of time.