We weave our words with endless grace

and yet they mean nothing.

Where do you go 

when your mind is trapped

but your body moves with freedom?

Why do we rely so much on words

if they are so easily twisted?

If you only look to the sky,

who can say that you are not flying?

If your eyes only meet the ground,

will you not someday become one

with the Earth benieth your feet?

Is sleep not just one heartbeat away

from death?

Wisdom comes from strange places,

and from wisdom comes strength.

But when the strong become corrupted,

do the things you know turn to dust?

Or is it from that very dust

that we were made?