Eyes; So complex, yet so simple.
Her mind is great, her body a temple.
But who loves the temple of adobe?
None, despite how interesting they may be.
True, she’s a lady; yes, her mind is lovely.
But does it overshadow what you see?
Gouge my eyes, that I may see,
The metaphysical reality.
We, the dominants, the race of royalty,
Downfall occurs aesthetically.
If I were you and you were me,
Would you love what you see?
All the pretty stars come out,
Young and bright, hearts of no doubt.
As they age, gas giants emerge.
Some burn out, others purge.
Supernova or white dwarf,
Our minds are constant, appearances morph.
Are we all not shape-shifters?
One day crawling, the next sprinters?
4 at dawn, two at noon, 3 or more as dusk falls.
Soon, aesthetics do appall.
So, the blind will truly see,
Through lies old as eternity.