Conventions of this wonderland I know
Are nothing like the wonderland I can't.
A haze of discourse separates the first
From all the rest - a rhetoric aslant.
What politic is this, a man coerced
Into a blind conviction by his peer?
Are we to lead a life of order grand
If order grand dictates from common tier?
A body's like new glass, but can withstand
The scars and beatings of mortality;
If worth is separation, we'll obey
And fight to folly, for the memory
Will we revert when colors start to grey
And in the end, from whose path had we strayed?