Time to take a look, past the web and dust,
This life is all dimensions—forgotten
Lies take on the form of ghosts, without trust;
But there is the Thinker, thinking rotten
Thoughts that linger back and forth, finding faith.
Digging deeper, searching for the headless;
It worms its way through time, through frozen space,
Around stars, suns, slaves, hiding from success.
Finally found, the answer lies in cracks,
Inside a mirror of a mirror, glass
And body impeding a hand of black;
Tempting, touching, but the truth has no mass.
The Thinker thinking upon a glass floor,
Not the while knowing his mind and more.
Kale Beaudry
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/beneath-the-floor/
