Who we are, there are no questions, full impression,
Contemplation's only tool we've ever had.
What if any digit in the nth dimension
Is not able to be shown on the flat?
Wanderers, like winding lights, nocturne, not loud,
Running straight but meanwhile looking back on thorny ways.
Hiding under silken guise and azure shroud,
Circumstance erases foolish thoughts, uncovers face.
We are dancing in the shadows of our thinking,
Our mind is just illusion at it's best;
Source of power from the space is never shrinking,
We are rushing over limits, rending chest.
You are me and I am you, the one existance,
Scary... but conclusions were derived,
Unity of cells- your flesh, for instance,
Overall, we're parts of what can't die.
Plural worlds- this definition is about us,
Single-even more about souls.
Lives, they lure you in, no one is last,
Neverending stories in the scrolls...