There is a space, between life and death;
It’s called the human mind.
The waters within, are none like Lethe.
Here, no wisdom lies beneath.
In a space that brought forth many a war,
the numbers now seem but to accost,
the lives therein lost, that is now but lore;
and their tears that fill up that river of gore.
I live in this space,
As we all do,
In someone’s reality,
As someone’s fool.
Maybe the lies you tell yourself are true,
Maybe I can’t get ahead of you.
Maybe what I feel, and what I hear is true.
Maybe, but maybe, then so are you.
The interstice between you and me,
The interstice between being alive and free,
is akin to that which you heart breeds,
in the fear of never knowing.