Up in a tiny ball,
Without disturbance from the outside world.
Or anything at all,
From within, so that all you hear,
Is the confusion of the void,
And the fear of what there really is,
When you strip away all the toys.
And when I say 'you', let's be honest,
No thing would actually exist,
To observe this cacophany of silence,
Or to envy it.
And it's alright,
Because, if you really could,
Learn what there is without your perspective,
You'd also be beyond evil and good.
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