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Forward through space and time;
It's all set into motion by these daunting lucid tidal waves.
I unfold the nature of wakefulness through my sleep.
Crawling along synaptic curves,
I'm racing toward my own reflection.

A human mind, holding a fraction of all consciousness.

Part of existence placed inside a vessel,
And forces decide whether it sinks of floats.
Pushed by heavy hands of the wind and sea,
Perceived as the arrow of time.
In shallow waters wading, in the waves the ocean cries.

The horizon makes song of my demise.

A shadow prototype of authority prowling,
Shifting shapes before my eyes.
Worthless, with no redemption from the earth that bore me.
No redemption for the lies that follow.
So I send myself into the wind,
Searching for tomorrow but nailed to my dark past.

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