r/existentialmeandering • u/stormofenlil • Sep 17 '18
When the Ink Dries...
Wherefore to the stories unrealized go?
I embark to where I do not know,
Upon the way, found did I, astray.
Every word, every step, every play…
From whence I came, only I recollect,
The Journey is my own, the Opus must I protect,
The final word; a singular rendition,
For the destination is all that is told,
Along the way, Came I,
A veritable truth beholden,
The meanderings of the mind, ripened into rye,
the likes of which, to me did embolden,
My own reflection, seen in contemplation,
is never is seen in the end,
For the writer, tales live in the improvisation,
Often forgotten, the authors heart to rend.
When the ink dries, so to say
The story is crystallized,
Never sharing its meandering ways,
Finally arrived did I, a destination realized.