We try to find meaning in what is real,
What we can see, What we can feel, But some try to believe the unreal, What's not there. And those are the lost souls, The one's with the empty holes, Needing some kind of moral fill, Believing that "he'll", grant them praise, For abiding their life to "his" every way. And then there are those who choose to believe, that this plane of existence is the only one that has ever existed, that what we cannot see, must not be And then there are those, like me, who decide to wait and see, but will question this society until THEY may see, we all must wait and see. . . In the end the problem is, that what lies beyond is an inconceiveable eventuality, and cannot be deemed as simply fantasy, or nightmare. it may be in fact, nothing. Which, alas, is why I grasp why we must put our faith in some place, and why I truly understand, why some must believe that they'll face "him", when their days and themselves, cease to be.