We trade the real for idols;
The past relieving our present.
To be immortal is to be unmoved,
As only the dead can ever be.
They don't flinch at our stares,
But let us hold their eyes.
If only ours too saw nothing,
When looking into another's.
We turn from each other,
Only to stare at imitations.
When we must face each other,
It's only from opposing sides.
We're all no better than statues,
If we're not seen for what we are.
Kiss the stone that anyone can,
In prayer to what you want to be.