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Throw all your worries out the window, yea,
And dash your little ones upon the rocks.
Night comes quick and soon to your detractors;
The sland'rous shepherds will fast lose their flocks.

Your critics will be silent evermore,
The ignorant and liars must all learn
When they harp upon your every movement,
They only will condemn themselves to burn.

So feast, feast! on the hearts of enemies!
So take a life's course best described as random!
So take the things that lie within your reach!


Behave with the utmost impeccable reckless abandon.
Yet another prompt: reckless abandon.

I am unsure about the rhythm of the last line. Does the sudden switch to waltz tempo ruin the poem or kick you in the face? These are the questions that don't keep me awake at night.
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July 18, 2012
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