Stephen Allen Poet Free verse

The Race

The Race

Nihilistic from the moment we are conceived
Hurtling towards certain demise our
Atavism repeating the cycle of
fate predetermined by fate

Between the starters pistol and the finish line
We run the race, another's
No relay here, it is only you

Always running, forever feeling chased
Hurdles attempt to slow our progress
Falling we picking ourselves up, scraped knees and all

Run on, run faster, and reach that finish line
With the shiny prize firmly in hand, die.

Alternate Ending:

Optimistic from the moment we are conceived
Life is an endless adventure ahead of us
Destiny determined by free will

Sunday morning basking
In window lace and leaf filtered sun
Embracing down white gossamer 

Dreams drifting, in open timeless places 
We play, no ticking down, only here in this moment
Memories live forever untainted in our hearts

Eternity is ours and always was
Infinity fits nicely into a life not yet finite

Stephen (Stoic)

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