Reap::Sow

I'll sit down and let the rapids/tides/waves rush Over Me.
I'll take strides in the direction away from home.
No matter where I go, I'll always end up back here.
With you(pl). With Them. With us, with me.
What a pompous race we all are/run.
Taking with us the instincts of animals,
We inject the idea of souls into our thoughts/mind.
As the lights cut my vision, I no longer want you.
As the next shoe drops, my dreams morph,
Into what will happen, what must.
After all, Aren't we just a peripheral
Thought in the mind of some worn out, cynical
Man? I couldn't think of a more fitting God.
What choice does one have? Take it for what it is:
A lie/picket fence/silver spoon/malnourished insect.
Life: it no longer exists.
Time: measured solely by how many time blood pumps
Through a piece of meat.
Maybe our minds will ascend, our souls will triumph.
Maybe everything we live for, everything we do,
Is tallied out in space.
Maybe we are this fall's harvest.
Reap::Sow.