I don't know what to do
I don't know what to pursue
Swaying moods and disparaging wiles
Torments the labyrinthine soul when compiles
Perplexed between now and then
Don't know what happens when
Like spring blooms to enchanting Autumn
The scorching sun of summer to the winter snow
My Bourne swings to crow
Chrono-phobic nor future obsessed
No one's there to address
Whatever happens by then
Despair, bliss, torment, detest and repent
Alas! I will be circumvent
Help me! Ponder! Find me! Heart says
Medico, Archon, autonomous are the ways
I wish I were an ambidextrous archer
Which could stop this future torcher!