Oh how the people have wearied the sun
Caused it to shine on the things they have done
Everyone's burning inside of their ways
Awaiting an end that will come to their days
And so many children are looking around
Trying to save what is left of the ground
But earth is no match for the hands that are small
And those who they fight will inherit it all  
Then once the transmission is made on both sides
The characteristics of youth will outshine
Like rays in the sky and beyond what is seen
Return to the sun as its luster and sheen

I've gone around infinity and learned enough to know
that numbers with such attributes are only for the show
you cannot sum or shape the time to twist into itself
and thus I lay and ask the whys I find within myself
_____________
uncovering then letting go of what I can't explain
the moments that I cannot hold are not mine to contain
and as I make my way inside of all this scripted void
I find myself at time's dispense, a human turned a toy

ive burned my eyes a thousand times
my tears are hot, my skin is dry
the rigid lines upon my face
are filling up with empty space
and i don't even try to hide
im past the point of asking why
ive known it all along you see
the cause of my despondency
to be aware is not enough
you mustn't only call your bluff
im holding on to something true
my faith establishing its root
a thousand one is coming on
and likely thinks that it has won**
but what is time against the tree
and layers of eternity?

i wish that i could tell you everything you need to hear, a sound coherent message that would travel through your ears

i know that if I listen you will tell me what to say, and so i close my eyes, begin to speak without delay

the fear will neither stop me nor put needles in my mouth, and time is only present so I can't not let it out

i might be repetitious but that serves a purpose too, in marking like an accent all the necessary truths

so carry any lessons that belong inside your hands, and meet me at the corner where the ground is made of sand

for here you'll find the water that is buried but contained, and should you pass the cup to me I'll take in what remains

continue on ahead of me and I will watch your back, make note of any voices that can put you off your track

remember what you told me and then fight to not forget, the road may be unyielding but your walk's not finished yet

When everything that's tangible distracts your lonely head
And weaves you like a tapestry on someone else's thread
...
You'll find that the embroidery will never seem to match
Designs that were original, the bias is the catch
...
What was in the distance transformed when you got close
And yet you tried to view it as something less morose
...
Possessive with your senses, especially your sight
You caught the kind of blindness that gives itself the right
...
To walk around the edges, periphery askew
And look to aberrations to tell you what to do