Questions asked, life forgotten
A doubt release at the end of a pen
Confusion sought, and pin-pointed
We find peace in asking questions
not only answering them.
Sometimes our purpose seems so clear, our ideals so pure.
And then we hear, see, observe, and we aren't so sure.
Suddenly we need answers to questions, and we need the now!
But since your intentions and ideals have been flipped
There's no strategy, no value, to base the answers on.
Our hearts, our souls, our feelings seem to get in the way.
With one comment from the others
your understanding of night quickly becomes your understanding of day.
We all want what's right, we all want what's good,
yet how can we discern?
If night becomes day and if intentions ideals, are only sometimes pure,
For the truth, how can we not yearn?
