Among these hungry passengers
One saps my will to change
One lives my life in retrograde
One grades my every strain
One whispers, urgent “cling on tight”
One drags, hissing “let go”
One sighs at spans I dared not leap
One only tells me no

Yet am I the driver, the vehicle or the road?
Heady with survival, destined to corrode
Clarity eludes me: what’s will, what’s work, what’s way?
Each fumbled innovation, a blindfold duel against decay