Where is that cause,
Which creates so much of chaos.
There is a deluding layer,
That envelopes me here.
This something that makes me bind,
Doesn’t seem to be too kind.
There is an invisible trace,
That weights down the grace.
With so much of turmoil within,
It makes me think if tranquility is a sin.
Yet I don’t want to give in,
And look for a place still serene.
I wonder, do the answers even exist?
Or the questions will always persist?
I know the answers are at the next turn,
But before that so much needs to be done.