What shall I say?

When the bulk of my chase

treaded on the surface

of this Earth nears its edge

will I look back and say

there's so much I regret

or even in spite of that

it's been my best life yet

and the only one I'll get

so it does matter

how I live now

skewed to the hour

of unrested brows

mining sapphire

to my neighbours' big wow

or to light all attention

on a path called narrow

forget about pension

the cross sole to follow

sneered at by peers

for a folly and shallow

keen to the greens

and of things despicable in the seen

and portrayed on the screens

and on roads bravely screamed.

But these are the branches

of littlest persecution

for just the nonce

until the conclusion

and of least motivation

deep conviction and action

follies of evil

from the outcome of delusion

always being watered

pruned and fed

with strange shelter

that instead trains them dead

at least it seems

such dire a scene

which may tally me

I rather not be

who is it that sees?

but perhaps there is

hope.

So I pray.