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In with the Old (Out with the New)

de Primitive Reason

No creative description,
All the thoughts in the air
So still like a painting
You can taste, even smell the air

How do we know if it's real
When there's no communication
Or sound no color or heat
To see or feel that it is around

Did you forget the feeling
The feeling that left you
Aware of all the things
You never asked for the
Forgotten, the scared
And if it jumped out
And questioned your surrounding
In sound would you even hear it
If there was nothing else around

With your eyes you can see it
But not with the hardest stare
No forceful deed would ever
never get you there
And if it sounded out answers
Would you listen to its sound
Then stop your doubts that it is
And always is around

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