there was once a zealous poet
with an endless word supply
who waged an apperception war
against his very eye

the poet sought to demonstrate
to his instrument of sight
by power of articulation
the meaning of this life

trains of thought were conjured
swarms of sense made manifest
still the poems failed to capture
the essence of the mortal quest

the poet's mind was stilled in wonder
its silence cast a knowing spell
the spoken word had lost the war
the naked eye could tell