Life is but a dream cast upon by oneself
Does life really exist or are we just a figment of one's desires
To be one's true self you may grasp upon the darkest ideals
Light may shine through them but is the light really the truth
The " Truth " may hold your hand endlessly
But do you really want to be trapped in a web of lies
Webs made up on one's failures
The Webs may grip you filling your heart with falsities
But is this all my dream or your dream or your countless ideas
Are we truly a thing or just a concept built upon by webs