We were the futile womb of aimless ambition
a colossal wreck, our own creation
like-minded, we stood humble in our art
there was an integrity to raise a vision
The paths were decorated by duress
we struggled to make our print on the world
clutching onto the little sanity left
the intangible ideas sunk into the back sofa.
We abandoned the propriety
and headed to resile in comfort
the road was a sinuous one
tenuous masterpieces hung.
we soon wallowed in our content
the wanderlust was unbearable
irresistible compulsion to become lost
we prescind for our own desires.
