There is Such a Thing as Beauty, I Think
There is such a thing as beauty, I think,
But it’s highly subjective,
But what I can’t comprehend,
Is how it can be objected.
A seek, a search, a desire,
A longing in the night,
Might make matters much worse,
If only to grasp a bite.
My arms remain but empty,
My soul left to rebound,
And when the dirty deed is done,
No warrior grates his sound.
Have I sucked the marrow out of life,
Have I depleted it, is it gone,
Or is it hiding, like a butterfly,
Deep beneath the ground.
Empty cockles, hollow eyes,
Stuck on the corners of the air,
They’re going to try to put me down,
But I’m already there.
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