Chasing Horizons
Yeah… it makes sense, but only in fragments
like shattered truths we pick up outta habit
We archive pain like it’s part of the plan
then blame the weight for why we barely stand
We pray to purpose like it owes us direction,
but every road bends under self-reflection
I’ve chased joy too, sprinted ’til my bones gave out
’til I learned that “bliss” is just another word for doubt
See, we measure our worth in miles we’ve wandered
compare our bruises to the wounds we’ve pondered
But joy ain’t stolen, it’s just thinly veiled
appearing in moments we swore we failed
Maybe the problem is we thirst for forever
when forever was never built to whether
Maybe the chase is the point, not the prize….
maybe meaning is born in the moments we rise
Cause even horizons look closer at night,
when the sun steps back so the stars can write
And maybe we’re built from the dark and the light,
two halves that battle but both ignite
So yeah… it makes sense, in the way storms speak
in the hush before thunder, in the tremble of the weak
We’re searching for joy, but we forget this truth,
sometimes joy is the ache that reminds us we are our own proof
Written in response to a friends piece!
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