Sing

Something deep is passing through me, so that I can see, the unwilled are living. The unskilled are thriving and our rivals are wishing for the worst of us, so we sing as much we can to will for the best us. A world we come to understand as the same as the world we come to think. Found unguilty by pleasure and profound by pain. An anomaly listing our wails so that we may add up the suffering through an understanding that takes our knowledge and rivet it from our roots. Time has a way of ticking our most pleasurable satisfaction away and with that, we see more of the world than it once was.