Morality with Biscuits and Tea (with a dash of honey)

I wake up everyday,
And i toil.
This is my blood, my sweat
And there are no tears.

I pick up another biscuit,
I dip it in the tea,
I lift it as gently as ever
as a parent would their child.
My brain floats
in the slight aroma of honey.

The world can be right,
It can turn,
Only with my blessing.

My hopes,
My motivation is all born out knowing
Not believing, knowing
I may be wrong
But you'r not right.

A world without
the comfort of my staff and my rod?
We who embrace the darkness
of our flawed nature,
we who appreciate
the intricacy of the upredictable.

I am of those who cannot be wrong.

But.

Witness the breaking of the biscuit
as it falls back into the tea
slowly and unfaithfully drowning.
With it my morality,
with it my thoughts, my sanity.

A new level
of power and confidence.
Acceptance of the other side,
existence of everyhting else other than me.

The world grows bigger
Beyond my perspective,
a bigger picture?

I pick another biscuit.
A harder one,
Its fresh not limp with moisture
Like the old.
I dip it in the tea.
I lift it again gently,
simultaneously opening my mouth.

It touches my tongue,
and fails.
Methodically disentigrating.
My tongue exploding with the sweet
sweet
sweet
taste of honey.

But.

I can appreciate all this,
I can accomodate yor morality,
in mine.
The question lingers,
would I want to?

So much trouble, so many thoughts,
So much friction.
Am I better alone?

I pick another biscuit,
This one's different.
Not too fresh, not too limp
Just right.

I dip it in the tea, swirl it.

The biscuit soaks in the tea
Drinking the brownish liquid
I so desire.

I lift it again.

But.

It fails, falls back into the cup.
All I'm left with is
A piece of bicuit the size of the tip of my index finger.

Pushing the biscuits aside,
I pick up the cup and drink the tea, Period.
No more battle. No more war.

Screw the drought, morality is overrated.
Sanity is a placebo
To make us feel the thin blanket of comfort.
Just like biscuits,
It's not the real thing.

Like I said,
I may be wrong,
but you aint right.

hail kings,
the true kings.
Stronger than all.

    Source: geocities.com/siddharth_dawara