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ten thousand ships, launched by, ten thousand mediocre quips
tangled in a beehive of our illusions, our eyes grab on to anything
losing our sense of space and time and other things like
direction, in a cave where we can only see our reflection
reaching out blindly for something tangible, that splinters into tiny shards
of all we think we know, is washed away by
ten thousand waves, fueled by the fires of ten thousand earthquakes
patiently waiting under a serene face,
biding it's time until it all comes crashing in,
erasing everything, all our names and mistakes
even the clouds fear the wrath of the fates
spinning threads, the leaves and branches overtake
our hands and hammers, cranes, bulldozers, and ax blades
the walls and notions and false prophets we create
ten thousand ships, launched by, ten thousand mediocre quips
tangled in a beehive of our illusions
our eyes grab onto anything, losing our sense
of space and time is washed away