It's time I’ve left the meandering—
breathe
and
brace fully for the inevitable:
the asphyxiating domicile of love and duty.
Don’t judge me too harshly,
for the formative debaucheries wore down
much of the decency—
all that’s left is the furtive hope of equilibrium.
To all the time spent wasted
counting and accumulating,
waiting and deliberating—
the specter of former lives is worn
past inhabiting.
So it’s time now to venture into the morass:
let faith consume the mendacity,
let hope burn through the mundanity.
If its all lead to this,
let us endure one more bend—
brave paths uncharted
and thrive amidst the loam perennial.
