Removed

I don't care about wishful words. 

Canonical normailty and 

Joyful mortality 

Are foreign to me as much as Alpha Centauri. 

Hoping to be best at judging the wicked, 

Into the well of knowledge I dive, 

For only I can be a truthful Judge of myself 

Only then can I feel truly alive. 

In a black rimmed box with a solemn window, 

Willing to wish the best to my Will 

I hunch my back slowly 

To rest on the willow's bark. 

And such is the start 

For a lonesome, not lonely; 

Appreciative and sound;

Ravaged by time, 

Still 

Loving mind