A nonentity striving for being,
blind in the underground, yet all seeing.
A rootless, fruitless contradiction.
a manic merger of reality and fiction.
honing its diction like a blade,
to hide that it is always afraid.
Rubble and wreckage, this human condition,
Excess consciousness, a needless addition.
Interminable Questions: Why? What if?
How does it avoid void's endless width?
And so it ponders away in its hallowed corner,
Quilted in thoughts, the dreaming mourner.