I have no guess for what might happen next.
But one thing that I know too well is this:
A life without a guess is one that’s vexed.
Such souls as mine live all their days remiss.
The feel of falling stabs their hearts in place.
Too fast they drop with nothing on their wall,
Inside the hole who’s bottom’s deep as space.
Why not just grab a rock to stop the fall?
On no one would I cast such cruel fate.
Just dropping down and down while life goes on,
While others make their guesses void of hate.
For me, of course, I sit, awake at dawn.
Just wishing that a guess would come to mind.
Perhaps we die then split… Ah nevermind.