Antagonizing it seems with the constant wondering, searching within the hollow heart. Clarity seems too late. But its like a bright paddle around the muck. A sole savior. Ignorance is bliss. But living with the unknown, shrouds in masks, knowing that they knew, gives the unsettling feeling, heavy in the heart. Thoughts are repeatedly chorusing, actions are non-selective. Giving the impression that we are in control but in truth, we are so far away from it all. Paradox of faith. What is it? Existence to be proven? Thoughts still lingering.. Still stuck in the muck. Where's my paddle?
