Today I find myself
contemplating eternity at deaths bed.
What little romance glorified
in the pain wallowing in my head.
I've sailed the waves of time
confused by the resistance of the sand.
Pretending I have herculean strength,
to be painted as a fool in the end.
Most men are delusional,
in their eyes, rulers of nations.
Yet their character damns them
to the cycle of a slave.
Standing unsure
in the saddened face of wisdom.
Who am I then?
I'm one of them, just a man.
Calling for more of myself
begging I take a stand.
Willing thy dreams from an ethereal realm,
into this mortal land.
Eternity shall not have me,
Until I've emptied all that I am.

© fruitfulodyssey