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Hesitance has its hardship–

Something I have not sought to see,
The words of feelings felt,
Foretelling an empire unspoken
Our Future is one
I will never desire to know.

Nor drowning, nor afloat:
The current swept me away from shore
Nor positive, nor negative,
Amidst the sea of unsure.

I do not know your mind;
I do not  know your mind.
The future is unkind;
This month is on rewind:
I stand still and alone
In a crowd,
In a storm,
In a sea,
Of Unknown.

I spun a web:
Tied it with tangles
Of knotted knowledge–
My home is indeed my hell.
Spiraling toward the center,
I’m Second guessing–
I am forgotten!
I am forbidden from the future–
I am fucked.

I do not know your kind,
I do not know your kind,
The future will rewind,
In myself I will find

To be my own person
Is to feel something so small:
Something sufficient–
Something surpassing,
Something transcending

The life I am living;
May be amounting to something,
Such as:
A monumental mountain
Muttering of its own maleficence.
To be my own person
Is to be nothing at all

I am running–
Unaware of destination
I am finding:
Everything I may never know.
I am finishing–
I don’t care how it all started
I am accepting:
A future I will never know.

I deny your mind
And continue, terrified.
I do not know where you are,
But I hope
You have time
To think of
Your creation, and
Your destruction, as well;
I can only hope
You’ll Burn Bright, like
All the flames
You’ll see in Hell.

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