I sit here thinking about life;
What is this?
Why do I solemnly dwell on what it brings?
My thoughts glide,
They race through my mind and like an albatross my thoughts almost never elevate enough to reach the higher clouds…
So I wonder to myself why? Why am I cursed with this?
Why do men create myths?
Legends just bring me down,
Encourage me to with creatures from stories,
My mind endow…
Because I wonder now if my thoughts are even really my own
Or is it just something ancient that encourages my mind to grow?
I always ask myself, why the reality of time?
Why is it that this theory supposedly shows me I’m being forced to die?
Causing me in a spiritual word to dine…
Ha-ha,
My life flies before me and I ask why…
Why is it that men will on day cease to exist?
Why it is that man will die?
So what’s this useless life I live?
Why’s this all to the world I’m doomed to give?
So I sit here and think about life,
My life is mine and mine alone,
A gloomy short lived overborne strife.
So I sit here,
I think about life and while I think it doesn’t wait for me.
While I sit my life continues impatiently.
So I wonder,
What is it that ushers me into my dimension of thought?
The one that is so immaculately pulled like a wire;
Taut…
It’s the one that hushes me and reminds me.
The one that for hours deprives me of action but instead teaches my dying soul an unusual type of compassion.
What is it that makes me strive to be whole?
So I sit and think,
I smile to myself and drink…
From this cup;
the reality that sits there and at me winks…
I sit and think about life from politics,
Immortality,
To the reality that isn’t the colour pink...
And While I think I realise it,
And while I think my life feels stained by that dark pink.
My life feels stained and incomplete,
I feel it drifting,
Fading....
My life is the root of my death...
My Death is the corruption of my life,
Why do both have to be entangled like a thread so fine?
So for the rest of my life I’ll sit and think,
For the rest of my life I’ll never fail...
My destiny, my goal is to find the piece that makes me whole...
My gold;
My philosopher’s stone.
