Grave of gold.

I want to value life
for all I can see is the cost
the daily grind and the hourly strife
so keep me lost, until six feet under the cross.

A body, coffin dressed in disguise
here is where the currency dies.

Mind's eye.

See the unseen

where the blind man has been

and witness life, inside a dream

an urban jungle turn to pastures green

and murky waters turn to a life filled stream

yet, we share the same world, or so it would seem

but the mind holds the key, to the sights unseen.