Between every hour and every sentence demolished by single vessels imprinted by faith.
we captivate life as if it were our own.
yet in truth it belongs to no one but it's own maker.
we praise upon statues and corridors created by beliefs and undefined articles of seeming trust.
we give ourself hope for a future we can't even decipher.
trust in words we can't even describe.
balance in emotions we haven't even begun to comprehend.
all around us we are abandoned into a center where we meet.
all the exiled are gathered yet still aware of how alone each of their thoughts may reach.
our lungs filled with admiration from the joy we once felt.
trying in all honest to remember why is it now just buy and sell.
recreating memories just to have a moment to hold on to right before our last breath.
sacrificing beauty with our own bare hands.
collecting in the end that which lets us understand.
what is it that we know so far?
where is it that we've landed?
if you can't define yourself by now..
how old will you be once you find out..
that no one ever will.