And so the world continues to spin,
and events cascade across the semi-present
awareness of man,
just as they always do.
Nothing new,
nothing changed,
nothing different.
The styles are altered,
but the substance remains banausic.
And as my eyes behold the cycle of
the days
for the twelve-thousandth time,
a truth rings in my mind with a
blasphemous,
infernal, banality:
There is nothing more devastating
than a longing for ignorance.
Derek R. Audette
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ever-on-the-illusion-is-woven/
