All outcomes exist,
In the sea of potential.
There must be an end to this,
When the empty space is full.

The hand of the actual sifts through its murky waters, projecting its favourites into the back of your head.

From your head to your hands,  a thought drifts,
We choose to act upon it,
And through time we shift.

Once you choose you cant go back.
A fleeting decision is a fork in the track on which life races.

Death waits after each and every one.

But how many roads wait for me,
Theres no way to see them,
I keep breathing.
As long as my hearts beating,
          I try not to fall off the one im on.