All around there are veiled profits
Visible to those that inquire
The unseen apotheosis of ourselves
Believing only what can be formulated within
Past the lies is something hard to discern
Certain times are remembered so well while others are forgotten
The deception of memory
Life spans fabricated by our minds
Knowing things that weren't ours to know
The truth cannot be known
Time is forever a mystery
Nothing really, really exists