Nascar

I feel silence,
though these winds are blowing around these clouds
and I'm on cloud nine,
wondering how I'll ever get back down to earth,
which is spinning like a melting pot of races,
and the winner of this race is never designed,
but we all walk the track,
we walk it alone with everyone else.
Alone.
And loneliness has never felt so comforting,
to know I have a beating heart to myself,
and you can share mine with me when you die,
cause I'm never gonna die.
At least I hope I won't.
But if I do, I want to be alive when I die.
I want to die with our hearts as one.
One man does not walk the earth happily.
We all have a longing for love.
But love is defined by the winner of this race,
who is never defined.
Is dictionary or context definition the best?
Better to be right than wrong, so which one wins?
Winning in an argument with the same words.
Words forming labyrinths of sentences.
Trapping us in our own world of words.
Imprisoning us until we escape what we have said.
Escape recited in some lovely words.
Your death foresighted by a loon on a corner.
With millions of dollars from those worried about their soul.
Wondering if their soul will make the cut.
But they worry so much they kill to win.
Win this race I never understood.
I guess some are better to just sit on the sidelines.
I'm one of them.
And as for those who won the race.
I suppose everyone did.