You might understand some things,

Between scattering phases,

The sickle division,

A contrast in our lives hampering

Feeble distinctions,

A secret has crept into the aisle,

And generations looked

What caught our breath,

For such a delusion makes interest

In to satisfy our death,

 

In material gain, there was truly an edge,

To laminate entirely, unwholesome stead,

An echo cracks into our sorrows and our will,

Of how unparalleled our souls to our borrows,

 

But I screamed at Jupiter, our solutions!

And how the sweat became

To be so apparent,

Though we push grievances fro,

These we inherent,

The secret is kept, and you shelter it,

Pondered on riddling time

When time riddled you,

Oh we deceived ourselves of eternity,

Now who is left, who?

 

While time counted, our things began degrading,

Know they were concerned of our time escaping

And concerned they were, not one had realized,

The perished release their secret, what held inside,

 

And I write to you now, I for no longer,

As a gesture to the very next,

Symbolic of some kind,

That the secret harbored itself in our soul,

Traces left behind,

We have our pasts, we braced the future,

Against too many answers,

For too few questions,

Our lending of the fire is our lives unto you,

We are all alive,

In our connection,

 

Be ready for the past,

Embrace the future,

Life is a consequence

Of the choices we make,

Time riddles no more,

Immortality is there,

But you want to live forever,

Prepare!