It’s a strange sinking floating sensation
All the impressions you had built up within their ornate guilded sense of sorcery
Its all real and fake
A wild ride with whimsy and haste
Years are estranged
It makes you feel deranged by the surreal quality
of moving thoughts and ideas making your story
Aren’t we more though?
More than this journey to nothing from nowhere?
Or maybe we are the meaning we seek
A longing to find what wasn’t lost only we made ourselves less aware