What’s going to be my purpose,

When the current purpose ends?

When my position now cloacked in the obsolete fades as mist.

When the sun sets on that day and I become the new person embarking on a new day. A new chance to be someone different. 

I’m exhausted and I’m tattered and held together by rusty staples. 

Every movement sounds like a bag of stones clacking against eachother. The sound in the silence is deafening.

When I awake in the dew, who will I be then?

Will I be noble or strong?

Will I be wiser or scorned and fearful?

Or will I be flames that rise,

Or tides that consume. Consume in this life what I could not do in the past. Soak up everymoment and own it in its totality. My world may be small, but the universe is bright.