The Cycle

Lying awake entitles a sorrowful story
Somewhat of an everlasting cycle
The Birth.
The Beat.
The Death.
Trapped inside of a case-like cave
Start to yearn for something more
Which in reality contains something less
The beat of your heart proves the existence of risk
Life is like a pathway of moveable stepping-stones.
Once again gasping for more
The stones lead to a dead end,
Of course.
You find joy in wrapping yourself in white linen
So blinding to the named eye but so solid
So secure to insanity.
Seven pairs of hands handle the remains of the escaped
And end your risky journey
Trapped inside a sorrowful case.

Isn't it a shame how you think so highly of something before you really understand it? Before you experience it? Preconceived notions are always a let down. They're either not quite up to par, or way down below. Bummer, i think. Bummer, i say. This isn't a perfect world where we receive truth through unexperienced experiences. Sometimes I can't wrap my head around it.