We spend our lives searching, like scavengers finding a way,
Understanding that light is a sign of the day.
So we squint in the darkness in search of a glow,
And falter in trying,
In trials we grow.
Our hearts they seem broken,
Our legs they are weak,
Our tongues are exhausted from trying to speak.
'Cause sometimes they listen,
But often they don't.
We easily help,
But more often we won't.
Because we constructed the things that we want,
Ghosts are desires ,
Desire to haunt.
But our need as below so above
What we all want
Should look a little more
Like love.