Of the stillness Marcus Aurelius,

Of the stillness Marcus Aurelius, where is the stillness.

To a delight has one so wondered, in the stillness of the night, the staining of my character of which I fight, to move is of itself a selfishness of acts.

Of what principles can be rationally held true, a harmonious human perversion of nature is man.

Of my mind thereby the universe does mans pride offer the only congruent nature of such as a man, The capacity of his belief to play god, fear not the death he plays of.

Of the stillness O Marcus Aurelius where is the tranquil in conscience.

 

Deeds of piety, repentance, self-discipline, and of prayer,

Ye Alexandrian critics of fear, Aristarchus was your marks not clear.

What notion is a brotherhood of man, his communal solidarity is in annihilations of man, for when others do break, passionately whipping higher than the low of level in the herd,

Hannah Arendt, to what salt did the wound not take in duties of such a state.

 

 

History does not begin with no such mystery,

for man bleeds through his own history,

Conscience like all prayer,

 leaves man no care.