is much easier when defined.
Contemplation is for blind.
We move ever closer to claim what seems to shine.
Fine sands slip back to the top.
Provoking a disease.
Propped up against a page.
Where ink is filled with rage.
Letters don't get past their cages.
Phases of humanity fly by in a second.
Yet, still we are in the first stage.
Infants, not in time or creation.
We are creation. We are creators. We are deviation. We are damnation. Tempted with not more than one savior. Parchment on which we display our behavior.