My thoughts race to things I cannot resolve
A new love, an old question I cannot solve
Everything seems to fit, a geographical anomaly
Can it succeed? A long shot? An improbability?
Worry, that constant companion
Worry, surely a fool’s mission
My mind has ceased to become my own
An unprecedented intensity
It’s origins a mystery
So many things I long to say
I pray there does come a day
The days run together, grey and bland
I try to focus on things at hand
But, my mind has ceased to become my own
What waits for me today and tomorrow
I am blindfolded to smiles or sorrow
Pressing on, hopeful of the possibility
Hoping for a glimpse of destiny
Though many a task lies in front of me
The Heart and the Head, so seldom agree
But then, my heart has never been my own
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