oh how i ache for you,
isolated in a dull gray cloak of logic,
meaning in life.
if everything is determined already
and we have no say to delusions of accomplishment,
nor any way to deter strife,
we are but puppets
strings hanging limp,
no movements to make of our own.
then, there it is.
everything is decided for you-
taking your reason to be,
leaving to your empty imaginings
a mind that will never be free.
you may have
the answer to everything,
but you leave the wonder, the mystery, the beauty of life
mutely knocking at your door.