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Question
Who knows the truth, What does it all mean, When did life turn, Where did it all begin, Why am I here? Questions circling us as we grow older, Answers drifting away towards the edge of time. Your fate in the balance, Destiny undecided. Blown to ashes, Risen to glory?
The question of questions
The question of questions that leads many different places until it becomes so wound out, that people give up and listen to a good line of B.S., or awaken to an understanding that no one will ever know and finds solace on acceptance of that.
...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."
"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "
Now there's an answer :]
Now there's an answer :]
Beyond the scope of light,
Beyond the reach of dark..