The pretty little boredom
That mischief defies,
Like meaninglessness
Amidst profundity
Thrives,
Words kill words,
In being big and unwise
Dropped as though from nowhere
And sad to have arrived
In a royal hour as this…
When knowledge itself denies
Hoots the knowing owl
Wisdom raining down his eyes
“Where ?” his pupils he enquires
“In salvation”, owlets reply.