Fieldwork

Just a simple poem about finding our purpose(s) in life. I wholeheartedly believe that it is nature's ultimate struggle. But it's worth it in the end. Let the search continue...

Fieldwork

Blank faces

Empty souls

At some point

We're dead inside

How we revive ourselves from 

this momentary death

Remains a mystery

But something

is out there

That gives us life

In the grand scheme

We have to pick it out

From the fields of emptiness.