No one seems to care for meaning, or rhythm. If i told to you a harrowing story with atrocious spelling you would criticize it for its spelling. If i presented to your palette a segment of text, which while logical in the ideas conveyed consisted not of complete sentences, it would be shot down, and reworded at the expense of rhythm. Why do we not see the deeper dew within the flower? why do we dwell only on the shape of the petals, when if we could look beyond we could see a honey so sweet, we would never turn to sugar again. Perhaps such is the mark of a good writer. Invoking emotions from the reader while preserving the sanctity of the language in which he writes.
“Forgive me Oh Hermes for the flaws in my ways. Hear my call Oh Thoth and guide my hand. “