Is this real?

Where are the weavers of the world,
those that decided on this blundering, bittersweet existence.
relative to everything, we share the same time,
what's ours is to share but what's mine is mine.

Send your prophets and great scholars to me,
I wish to speak with them.
To listen to the great elders
listening to their stories and tales

Time passes quickly, like the thoughts of a man
Down comes the knowledge once learnt
A waterfall of ancestry

How do we know that this world is real
secrets never to be told
locked forever within the great unknown vault
what purpose from that
what message do we follow
when nothing is everything
Everything is nothing
You are not special
One little part of this great whirling device
This crooked existence

Push and pull
Sustain and repent your fears my love,
Your desires and passions
In sweet sweet life.
That in itself is peace.
To challenge what you once knew in the hope of betterment.
How do any of us claim to know anything.
We only know told truths
From times since passed
With questions unasked
the earth does not wait for you to finish.