I lost my course
A riverboat shall be my horse.
I have to escape from this confinement
A stitch in time saves nine.
I should have used Aesopian language
Or maybe a bandage.
Could this be my albatross
Perhaps my cross.
Sometimes I feel like the journey is a melting pot of emotions
Sometimes I do lose the notion.
I understand the infinite spectrum of possibilities
But I also understand the lost of abilities.
I guess forever I will remind
As an Apollo archetype.