Pondering

[Revolte]

Surely I am uncertain of all things
–those that are, have been and could be.
And from this I write of volcano-trees
and other unreal creations.

I used to write–mostly–rhymes
(when connection was simple and short).
But these days I couldn't force it,
but I can tell you it's silly.

Don't find it offensive if you do
–there's no target but I.
It just seems somehow right
to say “Dog rhymes with flower.”

Because I exist, I am certain
and I understand nothing.
So if certainty is confused,
then truth is uncertain.

But, now that I think a tad,
it makes perfect sense.
Truth simply could not exist
unless entwined with lie.

And by that logic volcano-trees,
and even chocolate-fairies,
are not only real, right and true
but they more lucid then myself.