Flawed Design
In the narrow hallway of all that makes sense, will your mind still be there?
How far will it bend and twist until it snaps?
Our minds can only take so much until they tip over like tea kettles.
Spilling out all the contents from within them..
The shallow border between all that is sane, and all that is insane
Is extremely thin.
Our bodies are just like machines. Meant to be broken down into a rusted, tarnished aftermath.
The same aspect coincides with our minds, being so delicate like porcelain statues..
Gears, cogs, and wheels. All working together in mad unison, trying to maintain its constant rapid routine..
Inevitably they are meant to corrode and breakdown.
Just as everything in nature does.
That is a reality we cannot escape, just so as much as death.
It is what binds us to mortality.
For we may have been built in gods creation. But never should we confuse our design for inhuman deities or demigods...
Seperate entities reside in us all. None stable, but everflowing they are.
Constantly being teased by the ebb and flow of time.