The eye that is beholden to less
Is empty and dead
Lacking the myriad pigmentation
Necessary to focus it's lens
On the target at hand
We call this eye "blind"
Unable to determine the difference
Between light and dark;
Beauty nor evil
Yet somehow it manages to feel...
To allow it's owner to gaze upon infinity
And understand that there is no "know"
Only the "why" that motivates greatness
Within the soul that eye can see
All the answers to the world
Lack corporeal reality