I'm standing in the crosshairs
Of a future not yet broken
From the chain linked anchor
Sinking
Into the deepening depths
Of inspiration
Yet I'm as blank as tomorrow's paper
Before time presses in the letters

I am buried deep
Beneath the crossroads
Cursed to stand apart
From those with direction
Tasked to confuse
The faltering straggler
By adding doubts to their
Already overflowing collection

I am weary of this curse
I wear ...
Of overlapping cross-purposes
Where I feel my way
In total darkness
Along the walls
Of an ever narrowing tunnel
Squeezing me
Into a panic state....
Attempting
To force me to confess

That I crossed the line
Once upon a time
Long before
The first second did exist
So my passing by
Had no measure
Had no limits
Had no value
Placed by limitàtions
Needed...
For the formation
Of any creation

So in a sense I am
THE CROSSING GUARD
Disallowing
Any and all who seek
A way of crossing
By standing fast
Between
The future and the past

I am hollow to the core
Those
Who have tried
And failed
To break me down
Grow weary ..as I do
Eventually go away
And I stay
Forever more the door
Locked
Not to ever be opened