Nowhere for many become the comfort of few.
Those who challenge the pallet of colors and hews.

Faux, you dare, and your mind of an escapement.
Riddled with time and repetitive displacement.

For you are a child of sought after wisdom.
Never permitted to traverse your own kingdom.

Sat upon high the huntress's neck.
Rocked with discourse, content to deflect.

Untrue to thyself, you cast a sparrow's March.
Not seasoned enough to pass the Orients Arch.

Your unfaltering wisdom thrusts you forward.
Impatience binding you,...