and this is why the empty is: 
the discord that our hobbies are, 
the phantoms of our world-change dreams, 
the enmity within our love, 
all draining light that we would cast -- 
and this is why the empty is. 

and this is why we never rest: 
we seek and pry and spy and talk, 
we drive, we drink, we sleep, we walk, 
and yet, we find no sated time, 
no pausing place, no symbols read -- 
this is the landscape of the dead, 
and this is why we never rest.