I fear that all I know is smoke and mirrors,
And irrelevant pieces of a scattered past,
But I am more than my mask,
I'll find all that's hidden in time.
I fear that my life is just a dream,
And I feel like I'm floating to a far away world,
But I am more than my disassociation,
I'll know all the answers in time.
I fear that I'll never believe in anything,
And I'll die without living truly,
But I am more than my cynical mind,
I'll remember all my thoughts in time.
But how long will it take me?
I try,
I try,
I desperately try,
To look beyond all I hold,
But all I see is vines,
Tangling me in its embrace,
And flowers that bloom,
In a way I wish I could,
In a picturesque garden that aids my escapism,
I cannot wait any longer,
For the world to wither,
So I can exist happily.
I fear that my chaotic nature leaves me blind,
And hinders me from reaching my potential,
But am I really more than myself?
Will I really grow in time?
