Do moths leap into fire
dreaming of heaven, or dreading hell?
Do cockroaches whisper inheritance
while lying on their backs,
pleading for a turnover, or death?
Do fishes hunger for words,
spitting curses
as you wrench them from their homes?
Do birds feel above it all,
gliding in arrogance,
looking down on every life
from borrowed skies?
Tell me,
are they incapable of philosophy,
or do they simply see through
the fragile skin of human unnecessities?
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