When our vision turned gray, and eveything seemed blur
we stopped looking back, at where we were.
We learned from every step, our feet felt the sand
altough our eyes were blind, we could still see the land.
I saw the people who threw the vial of truth
into a tainted well, only to end their youth.
They turned old and weak, they could barely stand
but they made the choice, and chose to be banned.
Every word in our language started with a sound
We made our toys of what we had found.
So when intensions are good, even a punishment can relieve
Don't let a lack of vision blind you - just stay strong and believe