I don’t know where I am, don’t know where I’m going,

Isn’t that the beauty, the beauty of the thing?

Isn’t it, my dear? Oh isn’t it, my dearest?

The land has wilderness not yet conquered by man,

Not ever treaded on or even gazed upon,

It is truly open both in body and soul

Like a newborn infant or how the river bed

Is gently reflected into its clear blue eyes,

As I am now standing under golden arches

The pathways before me slither along shadows

And I can envision them in my poet heart,

My blood boils once again as I stare into deeps

So distant and so dark not even time comes back,

As I prepare to dive into this sea of ink

With no fear at heart but that of the blank page

Pushing towards the edge. Oh I am not afraid

Yet I am terrified, oh I am not yet dead

For I feel so alive, oh should I hesitate?

Only a single god knows the absolute truth

To this unique riddle and her name is Future.


Dedicated to Tom Petty. Of the importance of the hook.

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