What can I think of cold, blank, empty halls
And crowds that gather just outside the gate?
I listen, hear their loud, excited calls
And cannot see on what they do fixate.
If I could see into another's mind
Perhaps it would be possible to know
Why they love what cannot respond in kind
And praise those things that do not say "hello."
The world so loves its objects and facades
We learn that they will bring souls to bliss
And answer quiet prayers like kind gods,
But no purpose have I received from this.
And as more minds do brim with empty thoughts,
I hope we might escape these lie-filled knots.