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.