Why do I read, read between the lines
Create the ideal
Interpret

What's not there

Time has passed, no sights have changed

Misplaced pattern, rearrange

The light, the end

Mirage past, the moment is gone
I slip, fear grips
I fall back


Time has past, no skies have changed
Misplaced patterns, rearrange

Will this be
My last point of reference
Go black

My will
Put to rest
In darkness descend


With a loss of control
The next step is clear

Suppressing what used to me
I turn away