Fool’s Gold

Fools Gold
Is what we know
Nothing true
Nothing to show

A fraud
in basted symphony
Is run by
Chaste and sympathy
That nothing best describes

O see you blind fool
A spool of nothingness
You are
Nothingness by far

And yet pursue we do
And from this nothing
Come all things through
And from it are begotten still
All things that good become
All things; all ‘brill’

– Angelo Candalepas 10.10.12