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Something to Think About
I'm a constant thing,
that'll never stop thinking that I've thought forever
Because when the dark comes that I'll not witness,
I'll not think of it.
How is it lost?
Then I'll be blind
in a world of color,
when all the colors have lied
And how am I to know it?
I'm limited by my own greatness
because I can't pull away from it.
It can't be separated.
And I can't unwind the forever
branded into my mind,
that without me,
will die without me.
I can't shake it off.
We might as well call ourselves immortal
After all.
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