I seek to come to know the Present by scrutiny, without perceiving
myself to be, at least not here; not here where there's not a soul around, and where day surrounds me in sunlight clear: but the Future becomes born as I seek out the moment I have bound, where I am falling into the depths of Misery, which is and will be, inaccessible to your view on my paths overgrown. Yet o'er tears and reflections I see, reliving my tattered Tragedy within, as I trod the
often traveled moments of my Past --my thoughts are trampled
by my echoes therein.

I seek to come to know the Present by inquiry, without realizing myself to be, tempered by stones and crags, in  the depths of Eternity:
--but the light falters before bursting, scattering upon the Autumn
morn, whereas I harvest my Sadness like a brooding reaper in
Spring, as the Sorrow is again reborn.

I seek to come to know the Present by reverie, without finding myself a being, thru the valleys enveloped in a column of light; and souls encircling me like ivy green, which severs me from a pain that
died, and this time my Happiness is reborn; reborn out of the Gloom, and into the Light that bears my fond memories of yore.