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Man is a mixture: Part angel, part beast. Gazing at stars With his feet in the mud. One end making shit, The other great language such as No dog has or ever will. In the mind of a man Are dueling drives: To fuck what he can, And build cathedrals So the species may live And then smiling, Might transcend itself. We make much noise On matters of state. If to wage war Or learn peace. To build more stuff Or let nature be, As if we had a choice. Between Sparta and Athens We surge like tides. Defending in fear, Hoping for love. Working to survive, Then to create beauty. As it was, so shall it be. Night and day, Winter/Spring. Call it drama, if you will. Go with the flow, Yet always know: The goal is neither end. In medio stat virtus. "By Dan O'Neill" |
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