fascist habit

and the famous literati found themselves in a world of bound books
and the delicate architectures were no longer appreciated with dirty looks
and the solace of simplicity became measured by the meters of beauty

and you and me,
and me and you
and those are few words
to describe the complexity
of two coupled by the vows of love

and bad poetry all around
and answers lost but never found
and questions asked
and certain elocutions through
the miasma of nebulas could not
discover the ancient harmonies
that had gone, that were lost
due to pettiness and greed.

goodbye internet writing,
as the old saying goes
if you do something well
get paid for it,
if you go through hell
never tell, never tell.