All around there are veiled profits 
Visible to those that inquire 
The unseen apotheosis of ourselves 
Believing only what can be formulated within 
Past the lies is something hard to discern 
Certain times are remembered so well while others are forgotten 
The deception of memory 
Life spans fabricated by our minds 
Knowing things that weren’t ours to know 
The [bad word] cannot be known 
Time is forever a mystery 
Nothing really, really exists