Men know not what they are
nor what they could.

Lives to waste
as circumstance
stands circumspect
to what he could
or can't.

Will
just wraithes
and writhes.

As time
and shadows
do reflect
an image
that yet
could be.

I can.
I will.
But, still
I sit...

upon a shelf
that overlooks
the ocean all
which briefly held
the mysteries
and all I thought
myself...

to be.