To be conscious 
Isn't material
Or something tangible
But rather something ethereal
A fleeting idea of what's real
Intruding on the illusion
That we have all the solutions

Can't explain why
But I'm humbled to see through these eyes
Our echoing cry in the corner of the skies
Reminds me that
The shear gravity
Of just being
Is staggering

We exist in the blink of an eye
What a concept to be alive
To perceive is to conceive
In this moment its the beginning
Of the rest of your life

We are not immortalized
Our fate is demise
To no surprise
We fantasize to calm our cries
But its truly profound
That in the end
Never again will there be a sound

There's peace in that fact
That time isn't able to backtrack
What was meant to happen has passed
It couldn't last, but alas

This is precisely why the weight of being
Holds an astounding amount of meaning