Future is Next

There seem to be logic at the entrance
But destiny is denied
Tuned to a rytm
But unavoided

Between it is fixed
But nohing unavoided
Get to grips
But don’t go unnoticed

Between the ribs
Beats the heart
Count to the rythm
And seek the entrance

In the end it will be clear
But such a pity to go unnoticed
Seemingly interested
Not entirely pitiless

The dreams turned into a nigthmare
Counting lucky the blessed
Finding few options
But did not go unnoticed

Generations comes and goes
But I know one thing which endures
It sits there at the entrance
Waiting

Find your self between the ribs
Eager for a short decay
But then go to the next
Achieving the goal of life

Find not to silly the daydreams
Find not the unnoticed
Proceed as it was foretold
Destiny will come to grips

About Emil Hjort

Writer, poet and mysticist.
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