She stood in a corner and spoke.
“Emptiness is the truth.”
“Non-doing is reality.”
“I’m afraid when it’s dark you’ll hurt me.”
“Gotta go now.”
“Did you see smoke? Did you see the reaper? Did you see death?”
“No. Two weeks ago, but they stopped.”
He stood in a courtyard and sang.
“Songs of emptiness. Used words the dead convict never used.”
“Is it finally over? Is this the last of last times? Are you not mine any more?”
“It is finally over.”
“Then it’s no use. I have no use.”
These are the words the dead convict never used: “Poor, yet full of life’s enchantment, once he walked the righteous highway. Sacred to him then were noble things. Mean things he left on the byway.
“Honor, shame – how those dogs had chased him.
“Guilt, innocence, fault and blame – they chased, they chased.
“Good and bad. They got him good. Man oh man they got him good.
“’Oh fellow man,”’ he whimpered. “’Why did you oppress me. Why did you destroy me? I did you no harm.”’
“Blame, fault, honor, shame, they chased, they chased. Good, bad, right, wrong, He couldn’t run fast enough.
“Then he turned and yielded to his fury. Guilt, blame, horror, shame, good, bad, right wrong. Murder, robbery and plunder. Without the slightest pity he tore that beast, mankind, asunder.”