Perhaps I dwell on imagined reality,

And can not face the finality of my life.

In fact it seems I’m doomed to dream

Of the things I think I see,

Even though

They may not be

That way at all.

I suppose I genuflect too much

And torment my soul with a mindless trust

But I pass my thoughts to eternity

In the manner best prescribed for me

Of all that in horror I dare perceive

And all that in pain I aspire to be

That someday humbled

And on my knees,

I’ll sail away,

And at last,

Be

Free.

Michael Taylor©