This warming sand beneath my heels reminds me of a place I once visited.
Nothing but the sound of joyous waves nestling back and forth between the rock face in front of me.
It beckons nostalgia, and remorse as well.
So, I close my eyes and peer further into the stream.
As certain as the leaves depart in Autumn\'s changing,
It would seem that fate has placed me once again at the center of a predicament.
Deflating turbulence softly whirls, confrontation is near, yet still far off course.
With zeal I make haste, back to where my journey ended, and where the end began.
The sheep have all scattered. There is no more of them to count.
Be it so, somehow I must tire.
Restless, yearning with great wonder how the light could be so bright at night,
I give myself unto the fire.
Others can do it so simply.
Like a snap of a finger, then there it is.
Almost as if they were telekinetic.
They must all think of me with scorn and disgust,
For I am no magician.
Pleading oneself to Egyptian Gods,
prostrating at their altar.
Knowing the truth is yet near nor far,
Reverence is the lock, curiosity is the key.
Subtle trance, remind the fools at the top of their glory
That we are a byproduct of greed.
Haste without a means;
A vision without a dream.
I gaze down from atop my treasury window,
A view suited for bureaucrats.
I would wage any amount of currency that what they would see,
Is a nest of insects.
Well, I\'m no blue blood,
But my view isn\'t much different.