Once, a man puzzled asked of me,
Why use your eyes, your nose, your ears, to see,
While he had lost all senses, so he believed,
How do you still use them, is what he received.
How can you see the wilting blooms,
And bear the scents filling closed rooms,
Why hear abominable conversations, my friend,
Why haven’t you met your peaceful end?
I pondered his question and replied in kind,
How could you let go of beauty, so divine,
How could you give up on pleasant smells in the air,
And stop hearing voices, friendly and fair?
Then silence fell upon us, no answers found,
Only lingering questions, in thoughts they’d bound.