Without question,
it's a relief
to close your eyes
and just see nothing—
briefly, to blockade the lies
and tragedies
and griefs.
But after a while,
does that blackness
not turn cancerous—
does the heightened bliss
of ignorance
not prolapse
into a hell?
And after too long,
have you noticed
the extent to which
to suddenly unlid them
and see plainly all
the faults in men—
to penetrate deep
into their misfortunes
and greet those familiar
demons again—
provides the most sanctified
kind of salvation
your wavering
soul is yet likely
to find?
