If we are 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜, why can't we name it? If 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙨 are speaking, why do we tame it? If every 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩 is a quiet confession, Why 𝙛𝙚𝙖𝙧 the weight of real 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯? If 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴 linger just too 𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜 Then why 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥 there's nothing 𝙬𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙜? If 𝘸𝘦 are 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 than a passing tide, Why 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚 these 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 undefined? If "𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵" is all we'll 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 be, Then why does it still feel like 𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙮?