I am scared
of what waits for me
over the horizon.

I stand on the edge,
looking tentatively
into the black abyss
that will soon engulf me.

‘Please.’
I whisper, ‘tell me,
will I find someone
to have and to hold,
to grow old with.

Tell me,
Beyond the blur of tomorrow
will I succumb to the
pressures of the people,
letting my dreams wither and die.
Or will I raise anarchy,
so that my dreams may fly.

I know,
I will lose many,
friends, foes and family
and I grieve
for the loses to come,
for I fear the day
I will have none.