Illumination

If my eyes were as blind as you said they are,
Then where am I going?
Am I following a misdirected view of purpose?
I'm strangled by the overwhelming sense of the foreboding
Behind the essence of time, here I lie
These blinders have not yet shaped my sight,
This illumination will save me yet
Sometimes I've been mistaken for the barely alive, but not this time
When I feel like I carry the weight of the world I only see further.