Shoving thoughts into our heads
Like the last morsels of food
In the apocalypse
We think of glimmering fortresses
Where we defend ourselves admirably
Against ourselves

Inspiration falters
Like a warm summer day
With overcast skies
But either way an umbrella
Will keep us from the consequences

The quest for something to do
A way to mean something
A method for creativity and significance
Can be blinding
Like when we can’t see the forest for the trees
But there is no forest
And there is no tree
There is only desert
And it gets very cold at night