Do I wish to think?
To dream the unimaginable.
The mind of a viper;
Ambitious swipe towards intent.
Yet, its possessed fangs drip,
Such venom. A gradual drip would
Destroy the work.
“What work?” I hear you ask.
“Exactly” I whisper.
There is none to behold. With all my gall
And flapping gums, such spittle
Did not exist.
I crave to bite the apple of my existence…
Lingering doubt, lingering hope.
Can I foresee the future?
Can I not think?
Sigh
To exist with intent…
Wanting so much to do, create and be something, telling people you will or you want to, yet not fulfilling that wish nor making strides to achieve that dream is something I think a lot of people feel at some point
