Are we supposed to be happy
Or to do the right thing?
Surely we can do both ...
Which means
Surely I can do better.

They're busy trying
To fill your life
With greater comfort
And greater security;
But they don't know
That comfort's not what
You want at all.
Do they even suspect,
That you would give up
Everything!
For the slightest chance
Of bringing into your life
The slightest meaning?

I saw a whole army of wretched souls
Led on to do wondrous works ...
I made my way to their leader,
One shrouded in a dour cloak,
Who urged them forward to do their works,
And asked him, "how is this possible?",
He replied, "These are all those
Who wanted to **** themselves ...
All I did was to convince them, instead,
To give their lives to me."
I stared, mystified, as these long columns
Made their way through the world,
Overcoming with ease those who clung
Tightly, bitterly, long, to their illusions.

My eyes are drooping,
I should be sleeping,
All that's keeping
Me awake is reading
about how **ed up
The  World Is.

Sometimes, she said,
I see too much.
It jams up the circuits
Of my mind, and
Reduces me to
Paralysis.
If I could but structure these
Constant
Hallucinations
Into a more
Coherent vision, I might
Manifest it
By will alone.

He muddles his way
Through all the
Puddles.
She stutters, mutters, and
After a moment,
Sputters.
He spies, shies away, and
Lies.
She sighs, hides away, and
Cries.

Some years ago, before my
Mind established its iron
Tyranny on the rest of my
Body, and the futile
Revolt that was led by my
Heart was easily suppressed,
I dared to ask this simple
Question: are there
Things out there that have their
Independent existence, or does my
Mind insert itself between me and
Reality, and invent these things as an
Illusion to prevent me from seeing the
Truth?