The Artist - Last Chance to Reason

Always seeking solace in the physical

I do implore:

Is there more to what we are?

No answer satiates my urge…

Clinging, scraping toward comfort

Would you prefer the answer or the question?

Possibility or permanence?

A process cycling or a predetermined path?

Pure reality or augmented?

Is this progress

Or a cycle that I am bound to repeat?

Always on the edge of something beautiful

Limitless in vision

I’m at war with what they say we are

We are more

They forgot the forms of the physical

And the world they did not create

Lost beneath their works

Collective consciousness no longer heard