I have not seen the shiny city upon the hill.
I have not dabbled in violent thrills.
I have not gazed upon a setting Sun,
To busy always looking at the ground.
Such beauties have I never known even when in front of me.
What do I make with what is left?
What path do I carve out for myself?
Do I run through the night in the Moons dancing light?
Pray to a mighty God gazing from the sky?
Perhaps sit still in the dark and wait.
Past the city lights out beyond the island,
An ocean so blue and big.
I imagine my thoughts are carried by the wind out to someone else.
I have not found my peace of mind,
Although im not so sure I want to.
This violent life brings violent surprises.
I await for my next.