Hello, Life.
Oh Shadow of someone else's dream
Illusion of the senses,
Hallucination of the mind and sight
Maybe you could tell us why you're here,
Or maybe not.
"Why is there life?" the philosopher asks
But does it even matter?
When it's all just a dream
A meaningful dream,
Though nonexistent just the same.
So tell me, Life,
From the depths of nothing that you are
Is this all there is to know?
I don't think we're meant to know.

For the sky is only blue
Cause you asked "why?"
So what made you ask such a thing?
All the pretty colors
Are just an illusion
And it doesn't matter; it's not real.

 
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