DE-ILLUSION
I know what I am thinking
is what I think I know.
In storms of grey ashen
and in pallid snow.
I am guided by warmth
of a stronger sun.
Or so I feel,
I won! I won!
At times I trod.
Trot trot I go.
Snow cold feet
press cold, cold snow.
So numb, so painless,
do I not feel?
Or is there warmth
in this mindless zeal?
I know what I am thinking
is what I think I know.
Or am I even thinking?
Do I even know?
I am thinking I know not,
Not nothing perhaps.
Perhaps there is bliss
When ignorance claps.
-Mx
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