Empty-Headed Exploration

My eyes are not my property; They're not mine to control. They build massive earthen towers Out of pebbles set by moles.

They judge without a jury, Follow no established laws, They wander and decide alone With no apparent cause.

There is no brain inside my eyes; In fact, they're disconnected. They shy away from "ugly" things And long for things perfected.

But perfect is as perfect does, And that's nothing whatsoever-- Because the only place our perfect lives Is a place that we call Never.