They call it mysterious You can see it in their faces lit Viral messages infected by a curved slit Curing the state of a depressed wit Viral voices leaving through a practiced lip. They call it delirious We can hear it in the scribble-scratch A pencil giving birth to words that hatch Bringing life to curious eyes that at meaning snatch. But we call it mysterious The yearning stare into the distant sky The yearning oppressed under the mental shy The learning gaze in the student’s eye The learning of people to seldom apply The deeper meaning found in the answer of “why?” And we ask emptiness this with our deepest cry And it says “love is mysterious” In its empty reply.