Among the stuff cannot be found
The long lost missing link.
A parallel to hell is found,
When this logic minds do sink.
If mere reflections of the id
Do not define the whole,
Then bread alone is fools’ to bid
For satisfaction of the soul.
A rationale may make the will
Appear a wise man’s heart,
But motive will reveal when peeled
Of pretense, it was but a farce.
Emotion, often first you lead,
And reason, make your claims.
Agreed or no, you twain still need
A king, since neither one can reighn.
The mys’try lies within the meal,
Self-rising pride forsook
The bread of life that only heals.
So says the volume of the book.
