How Random Babbling Becomes Corporate Policy (t3knomanser) wrote,
How Random Babbling Becomes Corporate Policy

A poem...

A quest, said he, a quest I am on.
A quest, asked she, what quest are you on?
I seek a skin, I seek a hide, I seek glory.
You travel for the Golden Fleece then?
Nay, said he, nay and nay again. I travel for the Hide of the Minotaur,
I travel for the reek of the maze,
I quest to have my hands curled in the matter fur,
And have its fetid breath hot on my face.
She recoiled, unsure of a reaction. He pressed on.
It is my goal to go to the Minotaur's lair,
The den where it sleeps,
Where the remains of its victims rot,
And mingle with its offal,
And so there shall I bathe,
And so shall I lie with the Minotaur,
For this, this is the strength of my love.

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