Young

Youth is rife in my soul,
And I feel the warm embrace of my little sphere of reality,
At my side stands immortality,
She beckons me forward,
Towards my destiny's end,
And the ends of the earth seem distant,
The cold night air is clear,
I shine with content at the prospect of another insignificant
day,
insignificant week,
insignificant year,
For in my bubble, I live my life,
Not caring for the false promises, critical dispositions and mindless
follies of an outside world without an ounce of redemption for its
evils.
I live and I grow and I make my mistakes,
My eyes squinting, scouring the distance for fate, long to appear on my
horizons.