As I look around
As I look around me, I see these people
I see all these people, I see
I see them holding hands-
I see them smiling smiles
I notice paint dripping
Off their faces, onto the sheets
It’s such a pity
The persons we see
The persons we seek
Wells dug out of their own visages
Wells reaching into the depths of their souls.
Wells, whose bottoms untouched by light-
Wells are they-
They take in all-
They give up none.
And like so many other wells before them
They shall dry up and die.
Even then, shall we mourn
Their passage into the eternal Void-
As whose images they were born.