Played

Pausing we look to the sun sunken sky, prospecting the filth from our high. Weakest moments we see the dreams we've ignored, the things we find makes for a feeling to be torn. Listen for what we have insinuated, rap the bark around the tree and become a state to be belated. Singing a sung melody we've lost the sense, but if we had heard the fact we'd be deep in suspense. Stitch the threads together and make some reality, a prosthetic was made and we called it spirituality. On the path between true and misconstrued, We lost our way and believed something; which we made do. Stuck here with monsters we've made, I ask "does it take much more to be played?"