Some days I drift

A silken ribbon dancing within a violent breeze.

We are all that we have created.

Cycle came, and so it remains

We will break through the coming day.

But when that day comes and we are too weak,

Too blind, too meek,

We murmur, maligned mumbling.

Ever thirsty within our guts, 

Let them speak so that they may quench their thirst.

As scales peel and feathers fall

We learn nothing of everything,

A timeless trial, to deconstruct

So that we may reconstruct

And find some meaning in this mess.

Some semblance of reality in the present,

Constantly searching for what made us feel

What is now fading memory.

To unearth intangibilities and abstracts

Beyond our recognition,

That we may recognize them.

So we wait in here,

The atmosphere

A place where there

Is none to fear.