- Did you- Did you, and I repeat, DID YOU insinuate That these words were spilled from my veins in order to make clear to you - the reader what exactly I am communicating in verse and thought? Are you suggesting that me, the poet, has wrists that are enshackled, forbidden to choose obscurity since you no longer enjoy the subtle art of mystery and the game of uncovering secrets laid within these words? I know no rules, abide none but the ancient law of pen and consiousness. I challenge my fingers and the eyes of others- offering variety and color. Pabulum is abhorred by you and your kind, and I am left only to speak thus: My inkblade detests the lazy and those whose insight only glances upon the faces of words, which always require thought and penetrating vision to truly savour the poetic soup that I am known to boil and serve. Ah, and another thing: My inkblade adores bleeding those that encourage slavery. May you be blessed in being taught that words no matter how presented and crafted- can never fully communicate what a penmaster intends, since it is created usually for more than one pair of eyes. And many like you are comfortable in the common act of assumption. Which is why I am comfortably cantankerous- a cherished tradition among many who weild Titanium Pens. Amen.