We were born with no sight,
We see danger, in no fight.
Our blindness is not clear of color,
But rather of mind, of action, of other.
Some do realize,
Their often loss of sight,
But as they lay down,
They dream of nothing at night.
When we go up into,
The so called 'blinding' sun,
We regain our strengths,
And sight is merely one.
So if seeing is believing,
And true sight comes in final chapters,
We should all be humbly grieving,
And asking wisdom now, not after.