Actions diluted with spur of the momentous
Decide the cycle's at an impasse as the hourglass compels me to end this
vital to the doubtful steps stuck in wistful bliss
struck by a miserable kiss, once the essence of a sweet sweet peace
spiraled from a mountainous peak
to the depths of regret
mistaken as one searching for a crutch to clutch
mandatory conversations thought obligated in order to appease
mistaken as my salvation centered on escape
as the essence was simply searching for release
of the daily spoutings from a fountain
clouded by the pace of rapid change
still struggling to acclimate the visions with the outcomes of a present fate
yet what's done is done
so friend, for now it's so long
for you, for me: Que Sera Sera
handle yours, I'll handle mine, and I'll be back before it's too long.
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