A flat palm
On the fresh face
Of the fatalist saint
While I loudly state
In a state of ire
I am no longer accountable
To the human shame
Of following the footsteps
Through pre-laid blame,
Free to examine the same facts
Yet with different conclusions,
To dispel or remake the self-same confusions:
Heal the contusions
Of self-made illusions,
Alluding to elusive memories
Of emboldened, statistical anomalies,
Finding we’re better suited
For a different point of view—
Pointed plumes of evidence loom—
To prove that we’re not meant to be
These characters of bruised resolve
Featured in Episode 6 – Shall I rap this? (User-submitted episode)
