Up above—there—that deepest, darkest sea,
those candles carry our history;
Like paper lanterns released to sea
To guide wayward souls on their journey.

The world has an end, of this I am sure;
Thus we seek to stretch ourselves to that shore;
Clouds and trees, all sparkling things are pure,
and there rests Heaven's enchanting allure.

Them stars winking and glitt'ring about,
they know not of this mortal's doubt.
But should they never do so without,
I'll never know myself inside out.

Beneath expansive, ingrained philosophies
the ignorant are stranded out at sea.
Left to believe in broken philosophies
while floating amid inorganic debris.