Poetry: Our Road Ahead

Wondered, have I, of our road ahead,

The nebulous dark of night upon thus.

Petty street lamps but light an obvious thread,

Of the final weave; what worth shall find us?



And that worth take form of many a thing,

Be it all for richer or for poorer?

I wonder which, upon us, the turns bring,

The intricate design of love’s furor?



But alas, why tarry, these thoughts to bear?

By the gentle touch of your eyes, move me.

Your hand clasped in mine do I take this dare,

Face Chronos himself and daunt even he.



For this be impenetrable darkness,

If no step be taken, in hope of bliss.