To Russia with love

And as it was with all things, we spoke in rhyme and riddle... not for fear of detection, for that happened very long ago, but rather that those who has secretly wished to be spoken to were...to know that these words were intended for them and theirs only... for lonely isles and windswept curses held the symbols transmitted and divided to hold within, to keep forever... only a warm heart and a knowing smile granting entrance to this mystery... for every age held its oracles and truth tellers, its false bell ringers of alarm, and of course the hollow spectres of complacency... so in this we sing the true echoes, sown of old cloth, born to stare, so ravaged by all they see... because truth is madness and madness truly revealed, and too see is always to see much...

I wish I wrote this but I did not. This is from Billy Corgan; a dear friend of mine from down under sent it to me long ago. I just love it!!!