As humans we have a constant desire for "doing"
We are consumed by the idea of constant movement
Constantly itching for reason
Wondering just why our blood pumps through our veins
What we are truly meant to be
is simply defined, it is "to be"
nothing further, look no more
Living is beautiful,
but life's become a chore.
A beautiful, wonderful, constant bore
I'm sorry but I don't like this ride anymore
It spins and flips and throws us around
I don't like it now, please let me down
I'd rather continue a minimal state
Trust the creation, believe in my fate
Go only where I can wonder and wander
Speak only truths as I question and ponder
Simple love with no instructions
Instead of my mind suffering from abduction
Don't get me wrong, we'd cry if there's sorrow
But nobody lives in hopes of tomorrow