Silence descends and thickens our thoughts,
tongues grow heavy and words start to fade.
The fleeting nature of reality
competes with the dream of things yet to pass.
Narrow, our minds,
and narrow still the words of our mouths.
We tremble at the deep thoughts,
of significant ideas and prophesies.
Stuck inside our homemade shells,
we cling to what comfort we find
in our broken world of lies.
Fickleness becomes us,
and we fade from ingenuity.
We strive to be real,
but we fake our realness.
Open the windows and glance
a moment longer at the moon,
the things which we dismiss
are what we rob ourselves of.
We brush off the natural,
and put on the superficial.
We hope to become
what we dared try to erase...