It is not dreams of space exploration
that pull me from my comfy bed.
It is not grand heroic battles
that keep me dreaming deeply
as something brilliant
stirs within my head.

I am not certain if it is hope
that moves me lumbering
like a starry-eyed fool
always falling forward
failing but trying to improve.

I cannot say if it is fear
that pushes me on
while time devours
every past second
of sweetly flowered
and cherished moments,
succumbing to the numbing
of distance and distortion.

I do not know why I struggle.
I have longs since lost the notions
of fairness and love,
social drugs and idealism
do not override
my late-night fatalism and realism.

In truth I do not have anything,
nothing is mine cause all is transient.
Even these words though poignant
are less then digital dust
in time’s furious
and unrelenting movement,
marching on beyond everything.