“The best kind of prise is surprise”,

He mutters unaware.

Wandering numbly ever forward.

Nothing to do but dream and prepare.

In the dream within the dream

Eternity started with a scream;

And so he’s been, through travelling,

A spectator of things best unseen.

You begin with the shrieking primal sin.

From there all paths diverge.

The truth is this: All set out bright.

But distance begins to fade the light.

This, you see, is the traveller’s plight.

After the glare he becomes aware,

That the heart is speeding and mind is bleeding.

The velocity becoming suffocating,

And days begin to blur.
As flesh slowly fuses to bone

What we have, we seldom own.

We all choke on freedom and kneel to the throne.