Caveat: Poem #1014

The thought climbs up astride its weary mount
  To better seek and target its intents,
  Infecting other minds like airbourne scents -
A viral dream where every glance will count.

A prophet then, I forge through these events,
  Betraying with my words their very fount
  And caring not at all - who could discount?
You see them, now, such cloudy, cool portents.

Let's undertake to rule the world's wide mind
  By sending out that energetic thought:
Its consequences gradually unwind.

And finally, behold what thinking wrought:
  Baroque descriptions seemingly designed
To lift a universe up out from nought.