Life should be hopeful.
To live, this is the desire of every person,
Yet few have truly lived.
I claim to be different, an individual
But I follow the same patterns as the crowd
What is new, what is desirable
There is nothing new under the sun
And every pursuit comes to a seemingly fruitless end
Yet we exist at this place, at this time.
There is a reason.
But perhaps life is best lived blind.
For it is not the things we see that matter
It is the silent words
Banging on the ivory piano keys
a drowned scream...
In the chaos, there is an order
Unseen but existing
Like the breath before a speech