The hostilities are over
The numbers
Creep forward with veracity
Inside the smallest one
There's a clear acrylic ball
With thin walls
Cellophane like
Inside the ball there's a clear acrylic wall
Invisible, only extending a little way from the walls
Between that wall
Existent and nonexistent
Bounces the truth
Existent and non existent
Its songs are sung in Tamil
Its timbre is a Tamil cadence
Its replies and responses are Tamil
Its bony bounce is Tamil
The ball and its wall can expand
Or contract or deform
And the keeping bouncing thing inside
Human lives I guess
Or a semblance of truth
Draws an energy
Unbidden, unprocured
From the light and sound
That hit the ball from without
And the sound of a bell
That the truth itself gives off
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