perusing through the depth of thought,
there some truths were what i sought.
feebly, i navigated the lines i drew;
yonder I dare not venture the new.
bold, my voice, it echoed over thought;
insecure, my actions in a fluster, fought.
and then, haze rose over the lines i drew,
as though, those were lines i never knew.
‘i am boundless’, bellowed a bold voice,
‘and my actions; each an owned choice.’
i am active, not a passive abductee;
for, nothing merely ‘happens’ to me.
then, some nagging pains remind,
of some lines buried, in my mind.
lines of vanity, prejudice and recklessness,
that bounded the ‘boundless’ in blackness.