Is reality real Or creating a lie Is alive truly living Or waiting to die Is it finding out why This body exists Or discovering how After death it persists As our conscious amidst An oblivious bliss Do we still perceive Of conception's abyss Or become nothingness On a thoughtless vacation Of permanent timeΒ Β Could it be empty spaces Are all that we find Devoid in our mind Would all purpose forego Each moment of meaning How could it be so? With all that we know And all that we feel We're still left to question Is anything real