Quest and conquest:
the former speaks of self-fulfilment
the latter is about self-aggrandisement

By the silent lake
kids lined up their paper-boats
under the bright sun

Early morning mist
hovering o'er wet tree-tops
first flush of birdsong

The debris and quagmire
    the remnants of past time
    let's mould them to our fashion
   for a meaningful outcome-

   nothing shall be lost
   if to nothing we succumb
   from ashes springs the phoenix
   the basest can be made sublime.

....but time
   has no home:
   to exist
  it must roam

  yet omnipotent
on its very own

   most feared
    by so many
    especially
    when they're alone

   being homeless
  and to none belonged
  it can be irksome:
  its uninvited presence
  is often carelessly thrown

  but
when the world is asleep
it feels a deep sense of loss
in being totally forgotten

....and the time has come
    to pause, to be silent
    to be still, to reflect
   to piece together
    the parts that have been broken-

    the stepping aside
   myself to examine
   to revisit every past scene
  none of which can be forgotten

for memory is just
too persistent
too stubborn
and makes unwarranted demands
on the vulnerable person

but I'll step into myself
to stand on alone
and claim
what's that I own-
my dignity
my freedom
my will-to-be
that can never
be taken
away
or ever stolen

I searched outside
to no avail
being such denied
I looked inside

and what a surprise
( the experience was never in my past life)
'twas as though I'd discovered
an earthly paradise!