Our bodies are our shells
like eggs they crack, they decay.
But the inside is what nourishes us,
mixes together with other human ingredients
to create something more delightful.
Fire is beautiful:
but limited to only the sense of sight,
one would touch the fluorescence and be burned.
Flames are two dimensional;
one has to feel.
Likewise who would look at a spider’s handy work
and think it a lovely delicacy, worth great sums,
but yet would fantasize
over garments of silk, so cool and smooth
to the touch when strands are woven together.
Optical illusion, my friend, is a phrase well coined.
Why do you concentrate so on something
that could only ever appeal to one sense,
something so petty
when thinking of higher aims,
Don't you know
it know it means disappearance
of one’s enigmatic self,
their one and only soul?
Why then, are people so one dimensional?
Well, when we tossed aside their inside
They were left but no choice.