Life journey is but too short of a ride,
For i cannot spend my time upon such a small tide.
I wish to do this and i wish to do that,
But my wishes keep piling on a distant flat.
Before my waining time has indeed come to pass,
In which i will then be buried underneath the luscious grass,
I wish to do all that few have ever done,
And that is to live life not on the run.
No more running from the person i was meant to be,
No more running from what i can no longer see.
No more running from the people i fear,
Or even from what i do not wish to hear...
I desire to let go of all the hurt and proceed ahead fast,
For what life holds for me is much to vast.