How to Write More Neatly in the Field

These faces seem like injuries so far from home,
The normal eyes and mouth of love lost in these lands,
The lines of tendons flow down unfamiliar routes to hands,
That will, just the same, caress a friend; Light will be shone,
from sun and moon that rise much higher in these skies,
The scales of which defy all that is known to you,
And show how all these multiplying entities cannot be true,
No matter how compelling, all their easy ways are lies.

False scientists abound and trail their angry theories as facts,
From which the disenlightenment expands and then attacks,
The pillars of technology and all the sub-atomic zoos,
Of countless particles that bear their words and whose,
Empty minds dismiss the obvious as just against the faith,
We all must have in gods and monsters, dream and wraith.