| THE LOVE OF THE QUESTION AND ANSWER Oh to live in a world less troubled to leave such evils behind to be free of such worries and wasted thought Or does this hope fall down and crush with fury Do I desire such things? Do you as I hope for such ideas Do all beings dream with such recklessness? No we all are as different as our names denote I feel a soft touch of silk She thinks it more of a wet breeze They feel nothing but dull leather All, however, are right in their own perceptions Percieve, I say, in a remotely spiteful way You, I believe would say it another And another may not even need to say it at all I love the latter Why do I communicate at all Do you, as I, need such trivialities? Does his mind, due to lack of these, suffer? How could it not, I say, with such a blind mouth Thought requires nothing of speech to survive But you laugh and believe surely I jest They too laugh, but believe nothing, for they know not What is survival at such a cost! Would I choose to hope for such survival you think the change caused by conversing is vital he still remains silent And answers still slip through inquisitors nets What do I ask? And why? And to whom? She sits there silent now, with nothing to say And he speaks! What a wonderful sound "Your question is vital, with importance to me "I know not of answers, but with questions I am rich You however, are that of a different kind trying to disect a question you own answers to" How to decipher such a mess! So the question and answer are no longer a match She thinks them more of two separate worlds He, again silent, thinks them constantly connecting For what is an answered question? |