On somedays
I just wish to
Leave myself behind
Walking in some bookshop
Or in a forest
Or climbing a hill
Be someone with no plan
At a crossroad
On other days
I just race ahead
Trying to find myself
In unseen future
Maybe still
Walking into bookshop
Or being in a forest
Unable to climb that hill perhaps
But I just can’t find or place myself
In the chaotic present
Where fear looms large
The past is receding faster
red shifting perhaps
And the future seems
To be taking forever to arrive
Maybe blue shifting on its way
Out of sync
Or perhaps out of breath
I glance back and ahead
Avoiding to look into the eye
Of the present that looms large
Will it devour us?
Time that is now
Mad Decadence 