Are you so devoid of belief?
That you refuse to see
all that can see you…
The life all around
not made of the same ilk as you.
Floating above all of you,
I’m looking down at what you’ve become.
Has become, this world
all that you didn’t want it to be.
I’m not you, I can take it, but can you?
The evidence staring you right in the face,
yet you refuse to see and look away.
All this pain is real,
do you think?
Or is it just a dream,
like I am.