Bodies are crumbling, glorified prisons
an eternal gallery run by a lone curator
borders of space where we cease to exist
a wonder when young, then a tool, then a traitor

Among mirrored walls adorning modern churches
genetically lonely as a rejected lullaby
truth cannot embrace the sun it needs to grow
when our hope for survival lives within a lie

We stand like priests of our skin-covered temples
inmates trapped in confinement our psyche defines
as we observe the unwavering madness
of tribes drawn to frivolous shrines

The road to self-acceptance we travel alone
it is a journey not meant to be shared
eternity holds for each of us a different identity
from which the future runs scared

Where first steps stumble at every mile
the beauty of the mundane is magnified
dancing with skeletons from closets blown open
like a drifting boat befriending the tide