We are the derivatives of our thoughts, of our dreams, of our imagination’s demise.  We search so shallow in the depths of the human mind for the answers that lay trapped in the abyss of potentiality.  We lust after that, which can never be, yet distort our minds so that our thoughts will make it eternally true.  In our hearts lie the answers, where they have always been, staring in from the other side of the touchstone.  We miss so much in our lives, but realize not that it is ourselves that we are missing.  We pass with the seasons and change with the tides, never seeing what takes toll.  We drink the music of time and sway back and forth, nearly landing upon ignorance\brilliance.  Our reason lights the area, but our eyes limit us, allowing us to gaze only at what our inhibition allows.  The tears of forgotten memories dampen our souls and leisurely drown us, pressing us into that great abyss.  When the burden is such that we have no more strength, we are drowned, engulfed by the gift of truth.  The sky will turn to light, and dark again, as it does everyday; however, the next time it shines, it shall be changed.  Rapture may seem a bit brighter, sorrow may seem a bit dimmer; regardless of which you see, the distortion is solely yours.