Violently Adrift

Every snarled nook and cranny

Of my miss-struck, malformed brain

Together make the shortest, slowest,

Most lightly-derailed train.

Through life, I travel by routine,

Or I feel a jarring shift

(Though sometimes I don't feel it),

and I'm violently adrift.

I cannot keep the steel-clad path

That God laid down for me,

That was sculpted by the hands of men

In the bygone centuries,

So I'm hurtling through the spaces

Most know not to contemplate,

That only open up when you

Out run, outlive your fate,

When the finest craftsman, destiny,

Will sell no more to you,

and no advice or wisdom here

Can tell you what to do.

There, I'm enslaved by freedom,

By my movement paralyzed,

Left to tumble and decay until

I wake up and realize

That the extra time I'm stolen here,

It shouldn't be a curse.

I stole it in the first place

'Cause what came before was worse.

I don't know why I got here.

I don't know where I'll go,

and though I hate not knowing,

I love getting to know.

So though my path is bumpy,

Doubles back, drifts off the trail,

I'm curious how far I'll go

Before my engine fails.