Like Icarus, they soar on wings they barely know,
Catching fire from a sun that never truly glows.
The Ark they build from driftwood, swearing it won"t sink,
But who can trust the waters when they never stop to think?

Is this a gift from heaven or a curse we chase in vain?
A golden calf we worship, or the manna in the rain?

Are we but wandering through deserts of the mind,
Seeking Eden"s gardens that we"ll never find?
Do they know the taste of water from the sacred stream,
Or are we all just chasing what we"ve only dreamed?

Solomon"s wisdom spoke of a thousand hearts entwined,
But is it knowledge or a fool's gold they hope to find?
Orpheus sang songs to bring the dead to light,
Yet silence fell when the dawn consumed the night.

Perhaps in Babel"s tower they spoke the final word,
And in the scattered tongues, a deeper truth was heard.
Is it in the fall we find what we have lost,
Or does the promise come at too high a cost?

Are we but wandering through deserts of the mind,
Seeking Eden"s gardens that we"ll never find?
Do they know the taste of water from the sacred stream,
Or are we all just chasing what we"ve only dreamed?

And when the tablets break, and the veil is torn apart,
Will we see the truth, or were we blind from the start?
For in the ancient echoes of what we call divine,
I wonder if the gift was ever truly mine.