—What is it about freedom that we love; is it the tragedy?
We wanted to be seers and so we reasoned out a way
To disengage our senses from the Known
—Rationally, rationally; of course—
And from the natural,
So that we might reach somewhere what has been called
And I was crying for it, we all were dying for it,
And it seemed reasonable enough then; for
Only through the unknown could we see.
And what we saw at first, no doubt, was our diabolic
delight in the Dionysian.
But we were not addicted, eventually, to being seers.
We were addicted to the breaking and rebuilding of