It doesn’t matter who I am
or what I was,
but what if I told you, just because—
I had to read every feeling inside,
to uncover meanings emotions hide.
So I looked, and it seemed to be,
the sadness I felt was born from me.
Time after time, I try to explain,
That what exists may not remain.
We are infinite, and in thought,
persist—A web of ideas
in which we exist.
All of our thoughts will gather,
you see, and form the whole
of what is meant to be.
Through the current of thought,
I wade, facing what’s coming, unafraid.