"Confoundingly"

I have come to terms with my quip. 

The thematic rule of all aphorisms is concise and consistent with dementia and denial of all clichés.  “Men are generally more careful of the breed of their horses and dogs than of their children.” – the apothegm speaks boldly of my last resort. 

Where did the mantra escape from the composure of all prose?

The proverbs are muted by my mental inquisition and I, too fearful, lost track of the personal cupid within my epigram. 

Confoundingly!  I lost my self at sea’s edge, swimming with the geese that chased an endless pursuit.  The “maxima propositio” is frozen – a mirage of culpable inabilities and its idiom misunderstood. 

The adage has been virtuously cut loose, brève.  Where in my gignoskein is the list of gnomes that will quiver away justice and peace?  The theme is unruly, driven by a mockery of passion.

But now, oh now this pen shall bleed no ink for deceits.