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Muses mistak’d.

sweeping, the MUSe sICk takes me away, with all the weight of tragedy in tow… because of the loss of human understanding in the separate realities that bind us all together as one people… there are so many factors involving themselves in the ascension of human discovery, but there are always those dark forces that prescribe a different means to an end… tenaciously, the classical innovators were bound to leap and experiment with the human conditions that were uniform in their times, but today’s modern affectations are getting out of hand… so much so that the oldest undertakings of those lost civilizations become fantasy from which things misunderstood get too easily lumped into quantifying categories… the muses call to me, but from underneath the taint of centuries gone by, hardened into phallic symbols in the fear-based economy… not everything is so romantic… the pigs’ skin sheds itself to leave fresh the surface for a new hide… the art of the muses gets lost sometimes… many hands had put the philosophers’ touch into the sounds, but few dared to tread on soil worked by foreign minds, without at first finding it similar to the rest of the known world…

Thanks, khet.