As I move onto the next,
Slowly dripping through the molds of time.
This world is just my prison,
Restricting access to my mind,
As I soar above the clouds.
This world is just my container,
Bending to the content's will,
Until explosion is inevitable.
This world is just a slate wiped clean,
Before the words become imprinted,
Emblazened and set in stone.
This world is just an advertisement,
Stuck to the back of a cereal box,
Drawing my eyes for a moment.
This world is only a cartoon,
Played over and over, for amusement,
On a two dimensional landscape.
This world is just a stretch of land,
And I upon it lifting my eyes,
To the great stretch of blue beyond.
This world is just a single cell,
Of robotic mitachondrion,
And a fiery inferno of DNA.
This world is just a snowflake,
Falling softly onto a sea of white,
And melting away into the night.
My world is just a fleeting moment,
Captured on film then locked away,
In my little bag of keepsakes for tomorrow, not today.
