I wrote about life when I was younger and believed what I had said,
Not that of a great philosopher but of a simple man instead,
And as I look back into those days and read my words now lost,
I find that what I said back then were merely youthful dreams and thoughts.
Thoughts of wonder, fantasy of hopes and some of lust,
But then again, they were just dreams along the paths of dirt and dust,
Dreams that lifted my spirit and heart, building courage to conquer no matter the cost,
Driving forward with a head full of steam, simply thoughts of a man’s hopes and dreams.
Then as I grew, I lost all those memories,
I lost my desires, my hunger, my pleasures,
I lost my need to move ahead,
To conquer the weak and mean what I said.
So now I sit lonely along riverbanks
Gazing in waters where once I gave thanks
Asking for answers and how I should walk
Through the waters of memories now that are lost!