Transcience road

Wide eyes like recreants are trying to feed the world with mincing wonder. They see every stamped dirge but my own. 

In an augur's vision I'm an expelled raven chased by the bevy of vultures that seem to find my plumage "prim".

Am I a self-pity little piece of furniture?

Yes. It seems like I'm. Hook feared my melody and Buddha seemed to push the paranoid folks to a new level by saying:"The trouble is, you think you have time" and make them even more disgusted by my visage.
I think that I should try out a new dimension where force and hastiness never existed at all. Maybe then people would look at me and cheerish the moment.