Looking ahead...

When the Present looked at me today,
With languid,soft brown eyes,
That wuthers away the tides of the Past,
I resented it.
I hated it for holding me like that,
Touching me,
Feeling me... like that.
I resent it.

The hand that touches so many others,
Should it caress me akin,
I feel impure,locked in an unholy embrace,
Struggling to break free...
I resent it.

The brown trees that stood before me,
Have been there for ages,
They are kind,to me in the rain,
They are kind to me today.
But I know,what I know
And I resent it.
The solace from thunders,the shed
Have overlooked many other heads,
But I know that their humility is but a facade.
They know they are taller than those heads.
I know they know..
So I resent it.


But the autumn leaves
Sprawled on the ground,
Will soon not be there.
Some will shiver,and rise tremblingly,
And take flight on air,
While some would succumb to the frostbite,
And parch in liplock with the earth.
I am happy,
That there life before my very eyes,
Is numbered.

So in this Present,I look to you,
My friend from the future.
No one writes to you,but me,
Upon this early winter.
No one knows,you exist,
My friend from faraway,
There is still reason for me,
To try to break away...
There is still reason for me,
To keep looking ahead.