Intellect

poetry, philisophical

A single thought that starts to find expression

Rising on a sea creating a thirst for knowledge

Like a sponge devouring every drop

In an ocean of information.



A strong currunt sweeps the chemical pollution

Of the curupt plural thought that dillutes the singular

Washing over and drowning the individual

The tide of growing power of manipulation.



Hence...The individual intellect is lost

The battle won by the majority

The fight ends as the individual

Is broken on the back of the controling force.



In the deep reccesses of the dark

Is the small solitary light of passion

to be hunted as a precious gem

And shaped fit the concept of the mass



Although rare, can stil be found

Belieif is the force of search

Dont give up or individual intellect

Will be forever lost in self....