I know a man who wants to be
Reasonably happy.
I pride myself in knowing nothing else
But that
There is no such happiness.
He reasoned with me, his words washed into my eyes
And hardened into salt.
The loneliness of reason, doesn't he know?
You throw your fingers out in the dark
Trees shake and crumble
There is no free will
We try.
I tell him,
I try to,
But my lips don't make a sound.