My ink to the page renders an illusion,
as my thoughts are not black and white.
I'm Living at the brink of an age, in a delusion;
That persists with great might,
and induces much confusion.
How am I to see the light, when so much exists by humans?
How am I to escape the plight, of excessive material abusing?
How am I to be granted sight, yet lack universal inclusion?
How am I to sleep the night, when it's you that I'd be losing?
I dream on, without you to lean on.
I dream on, like the sun gleams strong.
The universe in my head, wonders the day of its death.
Is it upon my last breath? Or contingent on the next?
When life is stale, why do I crave art?
Is my planet a jail, or worse just a grave yard?
Even if I stay smart and slave hard, the universe has my ways barred.
And if I dream that my mind, is not bent or bound by time;
Is it considered mine? Or am I just waiting in line?
Should I revel in dream-like sensation?
Or should I remain sensually refined,
and enjoy what seems like duration?
I dream on, but a nebulous mind.
I seem strong, but am utterly lost in time.
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I am a twenty-one-year-old environmental science major at Temple University. This poem examines my finite relationship to time and essentially portrays the "moral dissonance" endemic to my generation that has resulted from unprecedented and daunting political, economic, and environmental uncertainties. In the age of information and science, my poem embodies faith as the souce of this dissonance. The knowledge produced by science seems to render faith as antiquated or unnecessary, which leaves the emotional human in shambles. To me, faith serves as the fourth-dimensional function of my brain given limited time. The word "nebulous" is curious: where I presently stand and what my future holds is quite hazy; however, faith bridges my dreams to my goals and allows me to steadily and sanely move forward in life and love.