Humanity is a Beast

What's a day worth?
In your eyes, do the ones in your life truly matter?
It seems to me as if you find nothing in your actions
But that would be presumptuous of me. That isn't true
You must have something that you value
Possibly someone
Perhaps, I occupied that place once
Perhaps, I didn't
Perhaps, I never did
Perhaps, it was only in my mind
That mind. Silly little mind
That odd thing, the spring of all trickery
Inherent trickery with no other home than the mind
The mind is ours. We are the mind
Thereby, trickery becomes ours
Trickery is who we are.
Tricks and mind games surfacing from nowhere else but the source
The source, that well of thought.
How could you know?
How could anyone try to see?
We roam this earth like nothing but empty vessels wishing to be filled
Continuously, without limit, we seek
We satisfy, we surpass, we engorge
Feasting upon the pain, hopes, joys, sorrows of other
Gluttonous we continue on
Bellowing and roaring until it shatters
Tearing and breaking until there is nothing left
The pieces are gone, scattered in the mind
Gone into the deep recesses of thought...
and memory...that deep chasm
Dark and full of solace
Hope and sorrow become one in the mind of the beast