Life is but a mockery of what mankind deserves death.

And death is only what we have forced upon ourselves.

How long until this web of fate entangles us?

Causing us to finally become lost in our own mistakes.

But tell me, who on Earth was not lost to begin with?


It has been said, "Be sturdy as a rock."

But are rocks not eroded by wind?

When will we, the stones, be reduced to sand by the tide?

A meteorite somewhere in space may be strong enough to withstand the constant rubbing.

Are we even but a piece of this great stone?


Would it be selfish to waste valuable water through tears?

Or would we be denying someone of salt?

Puddles on the ground seem shallow.

Calling to be stepped in.

Once the step is made, would we drown?


If we the people are like an ocean,

Deep and misunderstood.

There must be a moon to control our tides.

If not, we would surely be stuck in between the walls of land.

Constantly at a low, or at a high.


Life is like a river.

Deep enough for most to be swept away in it,

But shallow enough for the rest of us to drown.


How can we live in the present,

When as soon as we have it is now the past?

And is the past not constantly growing and the future receding?


If our universe is everything,

Then how can it expand into nothing?

If nothing has no space,

What is there to expand into?