The heart can be fleeting,
The mind can be feeble,
we hear what we want but we dare speak no evil,
What are we to do as we rot in the cold?
Covering up with a jacket to bring warmth to no soul.
Death is a grip for which we all crave,
For the only promise that is kept is the one of a grave.
What is reality but illusions and lies?
Rose colored glasses impair ignorant eyes.
We love and we lose,
We fight and we run,
Believing another half is out there as the moon to our sun,
The truth I see now is the purest of all:
We only climb mountains to see how far we can fall.
We can catch ourselves on the side,
We can slow our descent,
At some point our reserves become all but spent.
We can slide with the avalanche,
Thunder drowns out our pleas,
Lifting the veil between ocean and trees.
...