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!