“Vanité” by Philippe de Champaigne
The tyger is not burning bright
The fleece has rotten
The ombre has frayed
The forests are desolated
The islands submerged
Apocalypse is the last bird’s song
Divinity has refuted all
Under the weight of the charcoal sky.
“The Hands”– “The Creation of Adam” by Michelangelo
But I see a narrow ridge,
A sparkling ridge in this gloomy mind.
From nothingness to philosophy
The ridge is the charisma of my mind.
I see darkness being scattered by light
And perdition- heaven bound.
The melancholic tale of philosophy
Has dared to dream.
Icarus would have taken pride
For the philosophy is his zeal.
I wonder what it would lead to
Pandemonium or Belle Époque?
So, I adhere to my philosophy
And spoke of it like a devotee
Philosophy- My master and my creation.
I let it out for the world to see
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