faces are visions of absolute nothingness:
a meaningless variation.
within each a world of wonder and rich, vibrant thought
a construct monument to logic and reason
ay, but not truth;
because in death we understand perspective
and only in understanding perspective do we know the truth.
as each our minds form webs of reason
thoughts pass to dust and trail off in the air
of forgotten stories and kinships past.
our short, brutish stay on this conscious plane
begging the questions the answers provide
only in death do our minds calm
and acceptance o'erwhelms our instinct to hide.
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