Alone at last, the wilderness of life
Hanging over a graying brain
And musing over what needs to be done.
Living by the clock, like clockwork
Moves my day, or is it that
I am moving as time stands still.
The essence of a person,
The symbolism of language,
All add to the ever increasing list of meaningless anecdotes.
Cocooned inside my protected self,
I sit and draw images that only
A pseudo-imaginative mind can conjure.
I have gone too far within myself
To be really able to see where I am headed
Or how how far I have deviated from my course.
Tomorrow is always there,
Yet tomorrow shall one day bring
An end to all this futile dreaming.
To be ready then, at that juncture of life,
When fate is decided and paths are drawn,
When dreams are relived with all the zest of childhood.
