The words lost their meaning when people started losing their heads,
how they scurried about trying to find new meanings for old ideas.
Not one of them considered to look inside themselves for answers,
too busy hoping some miracles would happen to fall at their feet,
so they could hold them in their hands and show the world it was true,
their slightly deluded extrospection coming true in their own eyes.
It was not to be, however, as the skies turned black as coal
and the stars began to evaporate, and the smog replaced the clouds.
They lost their view of what was great and what was so beautiful,
how starlight had travelled for thousands of years to end in their eyes,
how every atom in their bodies reverberated with the universe’s energy,
how every painting ever painted contained its own secret magic,
how words always had their meanings in poems about love and hate.