Sip by sip,
Taste the flower's privilege
While a moment is trapped within her lucent nectar

We insulate the inevitable vanity
The spirit's atavism exists within its own creation_
Relevant hypocrisy instills its own God
We prevent purity's punctuality

As we profit from the ones whom have lost their home
Tender the lilies
Soft_ they speak to both sides of our ethos

Tom MacLear (April 2003)