The World We Live In

When I open my eyes,
         everything I see is a blur.
My mind begins to play tricks; illusions are the world I live in.
The mirage at the end of the desert
         is all I can see.
It is all that I need.

Taking one step is labourious,
         as if shackles were cuffed to my ankles.
They continue to pull me back.
All my efforts become futile
         as my needs turn into wants.
My vision becomes a prism that only shows me hope.
         But you can only show me something that I can see.



Everything I say turns into pebbles.
They are small, round,
         looked down upon.
The strongest man can pick one up,
         so can the frailest.
But once you know your weak points
         even pebbles can kill you.


Everything I feel turns into sand.
It slips right through my fingers
It is soft, warm.
But sand is only grains of rock,
         nothing less, nothing more.



Everything I think of turns into time.
It is said that time can heal all wounds.
Time can also become a mountain that can never be pushed.
Because after all,
         time is only a philosophy.