Christopher P. Smith

THE KNOWN NOTHING

WIND OF FIRE, MY SOUL SCREAMS TO ME
FEASTING THE BREAST, EXPANDING THE MIND
I LOVE THE PAIN BUT CAN'T WRITE TO IT ALL
I KNOW NOTHING OF THE THOUGHTS I FIND

AS THE LOCUSTS PREACH, I RECEIVE MUCH KNOWLEDGE
BUT IT ISN'T KNOWLEDGE THAT ENABLES ME TO LIVE
THE BUTTERFLY WILL LINGER WHEN I DIE
ONLY IN OTHERS WITH PASSION TO GIVE

WHEN GROWING OLDER, MY EYES AWAKEN
THOUGH STILL, I CANNOT SEEK THE TRUTH
IS THE FUTURE A FANTACY MADE UP TO REASON
OR A FAINT DIGUISE TO POISON THE YOUTH

SOON TO DIE, I WILL BLEND WITH THE EARTH
AND UNDERSTAND WHY I LOVE THE PAIN
IF THE TIME IS PRESENT, I KNOW NOTHING
BUT TO BLAME THE KNOWLEDGE, NOT THE RAIN

Copyright Christopher P. Smith 2001. All rights reserved.