comically we hatch before the dawn of morn
quaint sighs gasp the new breath of life
and squinting eyes swallow prisms of the sun

lost in thoughts one becomes a trigger of dreams
of what he was lives away realms long forgotten
and squeezes memories into rainbows of eternity

lackadaisically we all become the searchers of
yet never quite knowing the of of ourselves
not until realities and scratched mirrors are cracked

when do we become ourselves in this lifetime
or is it in the next that we meet the challenger
and lose the context of dreams spherical discoveries

what with the mirror's double image of the self
the sojourn of being not really here or was
and is it real a fantasy these lives we have

red-rimmed eyes speak the sorrows of living
as we know it but within the soul of itself you
and i are travelers of time and space lost