What's facing this finish line,
what's ahead the dreamed ending
of the will-alighting purpose
when time results no bending;
maybe something awaits,
maybe same thing as past,
whatever magic or mist
perhaps, dangers still has;
though tomorrow's blur
seen beclouding what's over,
still a step forth--forward
won't beg me a rover,
since so unpredictable
maybe for choices or not,
maybe favored unlikable
still requiring a lot;
'guess life's who's demanding
on living creatures' knowledge
of no certain amounting--
my limitations could manage;
we're no privileged to ask,
we're no capable to beg
but life's consistent needs
for drowned choking our necks;
hence, what's more;
what's laying beyond
I might've daydreamed before
but ashamed, now begone;
nobody, solely I;
yet, so tragically I;
what sacrificing beliefs
murdered solely I.
