A Cautionary Tale
Swatting the empty air before me,
Just another wandering soul
Nursing his tremens.
Iβm plagued by a feverish imagination
Beset by angry bees.
I have just enough knowledge to be dangerous
And do some considerable damage
If I am released.
Add to that a passing infatuation with words
And this becomes a volatile combination,
Excitetable and hair-triggered.
I am not to be trusted.
The pen and the sword and all that:
All well and truely noted.
But should that sword be weilded
Evil may ensue
And I am no longer responsible.
That holds true for
The corollary was well.
Palimpsest 
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