Reality gnawed at the epiphany of
the lack of a sense of control,
and the understanding of this existence;
how they floundered!
akin to a flurry of the withering leaves,
as in fall they leave the branches,
just simply,
offering no resistance.
This human mind,
from it's seat of consciousness,
toiled hard,
always absent in the present,
hoping for a fair weighing,
when actuality,
and the ever distant,
that elusive dream
are compared, juxtapositioned.
Nature continued,
unwithering,
and so did the animals,
Oh, so content!
they asked no questions,
dreamt no dreams,
their instinct had 'em so well conditioned.
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