Is anything really as it seems?
Is there anything real?
Or is it all a work of fiction?
When you sleep
Are you really sleeping?
Or is that the real life you live
And consciousness is but a nightmare.
Why are they called “moon beams”?
When they are just refracted rays from the sun.
Where do broken dreams go?
Do they just vanish? Like mist in the wind.
When do we have the time?
To ponder the meaning of life
And drive ourselves into insanity
With our greed and ignorance
Who are to say what is right and wrong?
When there are many opinions on the topic
And why must the innocent pay
For the flaws of their past ancestors
What is the answer to the inevitable question?
“Where has the peace and love in the world gone?”
Why would man kill his brother?
What is to be obtained by the death of another?
How come wishes are made upon stars?
There’s a chance that star isn’t even real
Why must we sit back and look at ourselves?
To find our true selves, which aren’t even there?
The simple confusions of the world
Present themselves in unexpected ways
And as sleepers awake, I can’t help but think
Do they truly understand? Or are they living in blissful confusion?
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