Unable to Determine

Our imaginations wish to believe in the beautiful manifestation of nature

Dreamers, idlers, and innocent vagabonds always think of being there

When communications fail and conscience dictates in a firm language

Revolting time shuts down the consciousness too

Another reality makes an appearance, but the mirrors are unable to reflect

It can be a depressing revelation

We are perpetually frozen in an antithetical dream

All the rough objects pierce the eyes and stab the imagination

There is an unhurried approach to look at the dawn

With a yawn, apprehensions, and a multitude of identities

The real ones are difficult to identify

What is it with the intoxicating nature of impatience?

The world is being complacent within the bubble of chaos

Chronicles have been misinterpreted, for there are no credible translators

Time does navigate through the faculties, but there is no chance


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