No Heading

Why is it that you think that?
I think that because I believe in this,
But the fact of the matter is,
These twisted words have no meaning,
For their ambiguous flow have no purpose,
Like a ship without a crew,
Like me without you!

Like me without you,
Like a mountain without the morning dew,
and the train without its rail,
existing and useless at the same time,
incapable of a majestic sight,
Without a path, Without a Heading!

But then I am independent,
your existence is but a mere confidence,
To drive, to push, to turn, to shift,
This train with an old engine,
With an extreme makeover,
Because a rail is nothing without a train anyways!