shall i sit contemptibly upon my pedestal and think? shall i stare above into the sky and long for what will come? shall i do what is expected of me as the tidal waves surround?
im drowning im drowning!
but the screams echo only in my mind.
this pedestal is stone, aged with decay and barely standing.
the waves will just keep crashing
but who am i to decide that enough is enough, to decide
what is nor will be.
the storm rages around me and i have not the slightest notion of action.
my only ability to hope for a brighter day where i may dethrone my self and find a higher spot to think and perch.
will he make it,
could he possibly be lucky enough.
luck does not exist
nor does time its self.
his meaning a lie
his pedestal is stone.
yes thats the truth, his pedestal is surely stone.
ambition is not a mindset.
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