A whirlpool of thoughts swirled
as I slowly jogged around the park.
Amid the futile struggle of light,
against the approaching dark.
To never let go of the strings of past,
as stubborn as a flickering flame.
The road ahead mirrors the bygones.
We needn't look far for the blame.
The crushing burden of modern life;
facing the music with his head unbowed.
He gets on his feet with wounded knees,
and smiles at the succumbing crowd.
Innumerable choices present themselves,
as many as the peppered stars, abundant.
Each with unfathomable potential, yet
the path chosen invariably redundant.
He walks about the infinite desert;
the scalding ache of complete isolation.
He covets the presence of a nearby soul,
whose essence is but a mere reflection.
I drew in a lungful of evening air;
the immediate difference, so stark!
Yielding to the juggernaut of conformity,
as I slowly jogged around the park.