To take action or restrain oneself: that is the question

Whether I may evade the consequences of my own hand

Or be burdened with premonitions that have yet to discern as truth

No heed for an inner parley for the mind’s reluctance

To recoil away from the fate of puppeteering strings, for fear

No more, no longer shall I abide to an impulsive nature

Oh, by massive weight is the jaded

From a single drop of musings to the horizon-chasing sea

I would be bestowed the title of the impoverish

Because I aim for no progression