A poem written during a transformative stage in life.

Not knowing the future,
playing a game to nurture.
The young, the old, are the present,
still tomorrow has a new present.
They wage war with wisdom,
us with boredom.

Not knowing the future,
to nurse my fracture,
I evolve to a new being.
Being a being to stop being.
Cry at my self with no self,
on the edge of a cliff.
I gaze down at a new beginning,
sadness evolving to madness.
I seek to be them,
to wage war at the new us.

Not knowing the future,
I ponder why?
Is life this torture,
or is it me?
Mind is an illusion,
so is time.
Soldiers of evolution
is what we are.
Till death we suffer,
to rest in peace.
PEACE!, we utter;
war is inevitable.

Knowing the future,
I stand tall.
No right, no wrong,
Only the strong.
No peace, no war,
Only the victor.
No future, no past,
Only the present.
From the reef
arose a new self,
not knowing the future,
playing the game to nurture.