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Breathing Still
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Cartesian
The bounds of our reality
Limits our senses to what we can touch feel and see
You've built your linear assumptions
On wavering foundations
Only to run into a wall of questions
Concerning our purpose in life
Can you suppose this accident
has constructed something so intricate?
Can you see past the haze
That is the limits of your gaze?
The craftsman behind the construct
Phased in His plan to revive us
Before the birth of time and space
He drew the purpose for the human race
Anthropic factors, fine tuned systems
Ebb and flow of nature's rhythms
Etched in our cells and our blueprints
Are the mark of His fingertips
You find yourselves facing the walls
Tearing apart the truth in scrolls
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With doubt your guide you chase the wind
Only to find the void within
How can you theorise with certainty?
You must walk these halls with humility
So ask yourself what is truth?
Is it merely something that's real to you?
No, truth is not relative to your perception
A lense prone to misconception
Seek the draftsman of dimensions
For it's his story that we live in
Discovery leads us to see
The beauty woven intricately
Into the fabric of substance
Revealing His face and His essence
The bounds of our reality limits our senses to what we can touch feel and see
Seek the draftsman of dimensions
For it's his story that we live in
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