What is it to be human?
To scurry about with no purpose.
To be in love one moment, and not another.
TO hate, fear, and rage so,
Is this all there is to be human?
You mortals act so strange,
Like there is nothing in the world,
that matters more then what you do,
that your urgent needs are heaven sent.
yet they are nothing of importance.
You all feel your hearts,
you think your thoughts,
but I understand nothing,
Of all the things I have seen.
Nothing compares to the state,
Of the very question I ask.
Human?
Or animal?