The world itself is a
problem to be solved.
The solution lies ahead
of us,
But in nothingness it
dissolved.
The ground is way to close
to us,
that is why we are afraid to
reach the skies.
Maybe we are too many;
the reason for the uncountable
forms of lies.
To beauty we always attract,
yet it cares not about the whereabouts
of our eyes.
Soon we will find our love,
but it will be a speck flying
for us to catch.
For in these filthy sands,
we don't want to start digging
with our hands.
For then the filth and us;
our colours will begin to match.