Disoriented poem True nonsense But by definition Does it have purpose Tell me for certain Is it a worthless fraud Composed of senses’ shells Concealing life without the law Law of a motive, One’s reason and justification Now fragmented with a poem But is the poem illustration Symbolic, emblematic, Is their truth in its act Of destruction, any thinking? Shall it raze the moral ground? Or far more quickly Blight us all? All in this state, this fluster, This plight, All in this way That we’re departing