To be consciousΒ Isn't material Or something tangible But rather something ethereal A fleeting idea of what's real Intruding on the illusion That we have all the solutions
Can't explain why But I'm humbled to see through these eyes Our echoing cry in the corner of the skies Reminds me that The shear gravity Of just being Is staggering
We exist in the blink of an eye What a concept to be alive To perceive is to conceive In this moment its the beginning Of the rest of your life
We are not immortalized Our fate is demise To no surprise We fantasize to calm our cries But its truly profound That in the end Never again will there be a sound
There's peace in that fact That time isn't able to backtrack What was meant to happen has passed It couldn't last, but alas
This is precisely why the weight of being Holds an astounding amount of meaning
Just by being alive, we're faced with many burdens that we can't fully comprehend, but that's why we need to allow ourselves joy while we're here for the little time that we have. Life can be as fulfilling as we make it. That's the message I'm trying to convey in the most realistic way.