Sleep Sleep Endlessly we wander alone stopping here and there for a fleeting impression Lightheartedly we venture on winding paths of denial through windy canyons of hope to enrich ourselves increase our worldly gain The world spins around us in great, magical, mystical circles as eternities pass us by unasked, unwanted Under a setting sun the cricket sits and sings at the first appearing stars telling of ages he has seen and miracles that have never been Next to him a man who dreams of things he cannot see and shrouded things yet to be In the end, what do we become? Our mother, our father and add some? Or are we a book in a foreign speech one that we are just now learning to read? We shape the world The world shapes us God is a lie but only if we lie to ourselves only if we allow Him to be.