And in ever flowing lies we search for the constant truth
To find nothingness in an empty expanse of words and muted sound
The open hands in which the intangible is offered
To receive is to be in perpetual confusion

We seek in futility
We find the incomprehensible
You see and you believe
I see and discover
No option, only inexplicable contempt

The Heavens give hope and command faith
People pray and are scorned
For in hope we are deceived
And in faith we are played masterfully
As with stringed puppets and paper planes

In life we shall have nothing
In death we shall hold nothing
To live we should seek nothing
To die, we must keep nothing

Life, so simple, is but a lie
In an endless cacophony of truth.