He was bespeckled in confusion,
Little doubts that grew larger than him,
And how could a child ever carry that weight?
There was only a single thing he knew
And that was that he knew nothing
And so he was nothing
And what worth is nothing?
But it's nothing,
So it doesn't matter,
After all, it's just nonsense
And he'll wake from it
And then he'll truly know despair
Which is something more than nothing
But something worse than it too
And it's all spun out of control;
Quick, take the reins from him,
He won't know what to do with them anyway.
He only knows nothing and despair
And so his heart blackened and his face shifted
Until he picked apart his skin
And started a collection of masks.
Is this better than nothing?
Better than despair?
Look at him but not any deeper,
Only what's on the surface
As there's nothing beyond it;
Or so he claims or so he believes,
But again what worth is his word,
The word of an inhuman?
Wretched little thing,
How foolish could he have been?
The water was warm, not very cold at all.
He just couldn't bring himself to it.
I just couldn't.
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