Untitled

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?

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