They call it arrogance and vanity and selfish wisps of wants so fair and strange

They try to shake it from its life of mirth and try to cramp it's style until the dirt begins it's clawing pull against the grain

They want it steady in that mainstream flow and throw away the chance to reach the real

They hold and keep it close but don't conceive the thought their tightened grip will only make it loose

They want the here and now and in the current sweep away the past and all that lasts

They are the beacon for our mortal souls to shine a little brighter on our own without the horde of dark

They are the faceless we cannot fathom being without and without them we would surely know ourselves without the shadow of their doubt