You, with your heightened personal level,
you, with your big words and thick books and works, all holier knowledge,
What good has it done you?
With your magnetic fields engulfing
your heart and your brain,
and the laughter and cheer of other alikes
What good, again?
You old freak, saying any old lie,
You’re a fake!
You’re a fake!
You’re a fraud!
Try to undecipher the mathemathics of my life,
or draw a map of its morphology and telluric motions.
Can you please do that for me?
Can you save me from the sorrow of this second to come?
You’re now letting your heart
melt and be spilled down the drainage, to a pit
which equals the endless night
of your soul.
You’re now ready to die
-a soldier of life, you-
energy all spent.
Tell me: what good has it served?
Ready to jump over the fence,
to be wolfed by the big night behind this great wall of white.
