May I ask? Is it giving up imagination
And holding the mind to task;
I think it is in response to violent means
That serve no Justice, and the Truth
Must reveal. Once upon a time
Being mad was good, for lovelorn
Lovers and gigantic soldiers;
But today you would have me locked
Up In the dungeons with no food
Or water? your violence is slavish,
It reeks of a putrid smell that
Adorns this cave where I dwell ;
You beat me up to no avail
With your evil-intentioned
Thoughts that create disharmony
And disunity; seeing your violence
I grow to be kind and loving
And humble and keep in mind
That the end to violence is
Spreading love and joy.
That my friend is the theory
Of madness; spreading love
Where there rests an evil mind.
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