Bliss

Bliss is the blindfold over the mind,
deaf to any irony that stains
what the landscape unfolds
before the eyes.

Silence is the keeper
for what we choose not to see,
tongue wrapped around thoughts
refusing to let them breath.

The world looks so perfect
when you never lift any masks
don’t have to worry
about understanding a truth from a tale.

Just living happily without wondering,
dwelling where this peace
even if it is mere imagination,
because life is never without
so many question marks
on the face of a day,
much easier to not look at them
than work at deciphering,
which answers come as honesty
from those that are fables.

Ignorance such an exquisite state
safe from what roams
just beyond our sight
don’t have to worry if it is friend
or an enemy
when you keep your eyes closed.

Listening only to hold music in the head
drowns out the cries inside
that demand understanding
for what doesn’t make sense.