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striding through the shifting shadows, feeling shattered in your sleep, as we seek the will to fix the broken lives that leave us weak and though we clearly see the cracks and flaws in natural, worldly signs we are unaccepting of the worlds impractical designs for with nothing truly broken and with nothing truly fixed can we ever look at our vast lives and gaze at them, transfixed? or are we doomed forever with myopic, fearful thoughts seeking nonexistent answers in a hell that we have wrought never stepping from the light of day for fear of darkest night with insomnia that masquerades as staying in the right and rejecting nightfall for the phobic dogma of the world but if we peek behind the curtain, take a glance behind the door, who could say what dreams we'd have that we have never had before?