The breakup

I have a terror of the present,

which is the terror of the moment

that refuses to pass, but claims what is as its,

for what we are is all our path.

No great belief he needs,

who sits and waits and sees

what comes his way,

yet there he is, who looks inside at his own play.

My heart is heavy

since the hour has come

to look at the light

and there are those, who shan't.