Always a reason to ride the wave, one after the other in a childish embrace,

For what fortune could one find in another’s perspective over selfworth trailing behind,

And yet to understand one’s own doing, is left to concern by a price weighed against experience,

Purpose to go on, it says staring with blank eyes at every source of my discomfort,

Destiny, this disenchanted harmony, becomes the impedance of all things to be,

Why scream oblivion at an eroded desert for the dunes to regress unsatiated,

To never truly know, the absolutes that do persist despite all differences,

For what they are, an observer as the objects only deterrent uncertainty,

Can’t be confirmed nor denied in existence, if only to keep motives pristine.