As if it were 107 steps, somewhere leading nowhere
To take to reach from beginning till end
Our life seems to turn into simple complexity
No less and no more, discoveries seem to bring
Any disclosure, near or further away
From our destined goals, with infinitely blurry sharpness
Could it be true, those 1 to 11 dimensions hold the key
As if there are only many roads and neither start nor destination
And time is always, variable and never controllable
Leaving us on our roads to destinies
We never left, neither stopped, right?
You are clearly scattered and confused
Knowing that only the truth matters
Could you certainly grasp it’s uncertain impact?
Our limited (mis)understanding of the unlimited…