The Process of Thought

It starts with nothing Naught and squat And then a ring And then a dot And then a string So tightly taut That's the beginning Of a thought. The eye is the weapon The ear is radar The image is ammunition The mind’s just bizarre With the tearing of limbs You take a breath The thought is grim The thought is Death. The eyes love this The ears are hating The image: open canvas The mind is a painting With artist's skill You do your duty The thought is a thrill The thought is Beauty. The eyes are eyes The ears are ears The image always lies The mind always steers The thoughts that descend Are simply abnormality But The Thought never ends It just morphs back into reality Snap.