IN MY CRAFT AND SULLEN ART

In my Craft and Sullen Art
I will still a line, only a line.
In my Craft and Sullen Art
I will seek nothing but a sign.

In my Mystic and Morose Pen
I will give the world the lie
If men please they learn
Or cankered with hate they die.

In my Craft and Sullen Art
I hear still voices in deep meditations
I see great figures in flimsy format
I live timeless in astral projections.

In my Clumsy but Intelligent Art
I see entities in beseeming void
Existence in the elusive the world knows no part
The bravest encounters Brave tend to avoid.

In my Dark and Metaphysical Art
I am God, no! I am a god
I am a poisonous dart
I am the Lord, no! I am a lord!

In my Idle and Volatile Thoughts
Beyond the ordinary I see
I scorn Science cast her futile lots
As their insanity evolve into theory.

In my Craft and Sullen Art,
In heart beats I make musical lines
Where Ordinary loss, I start
In water flows comes poetic lines.

In this Majestic Intuition I muse
At the timidity of the in-confident
As the world harmony refuse
I also cry of Potentate, so inconsistent.

In my Craft and Sullen Art
There is nothing, no Science
I see only sweet Art
And every other hypocrite I despise.