Purpose

We walk on
Purposeless, waiting for the realization to dawn.
As days pass,
There is only so much bliss that lasts.

Yet, we walk on
Finding ways for our dreams to prolong.
Will, the thing that keeps us going
Is only as strong as our purpose.

We walk on,
Unaware that life is an elaborate con.
Shadows haunting us, we drift;
Waiting and yearning for the significant lift.

Our dreams clouded with dreary echos;
We remain blind.
What threatens to vanish is our silent cry
Truly purposeless, our inspiration slowly runs dry.