The illusion of a future
Subliminally etched into our torpid minds,
Of recycled knowledge.
Like gossip --
Altered at each articulation
for apprehension relative to our lives
and the roles that we agreed to play.
Rather than truth and the purity of,
we sought satisfaction
with comfort in chronology.
Though future,
only exists in terms of memory of past,
And change defined as
the improvement of habit.
For, this past we classify,
is perspective of something that was
from something that is.
We live in the era of eternity.
Where time, falsely measured,
as if finding a beginning point on a circle.
