What do you know?
There are voices, Seems like echoes ringing loud in my head, Of things and times, Changing over and over, No source of relief from the pain, From the guilt of ignorance, What do we actually know? What things are? Why they be? Whence they are? Can a picture be revealed? A detailed image of the word; know? What do we actually know? When things occur? How they are? From whence they are? Is anything so clear and vivid? Or are we trapped in a world confined? If there be any resolve, If I had any stan
