When it feels as if an objective is needed to align my gait
I know for certain that there is a problem, I’ve not moved enough
For goals and missions are stand-ins for energies unused
Wishes for lamps gained through adventurous treachery
I know when this desire comes across my desk
That this desk has to go far away from me now
And that can be either through the entry of the desk into the annals of garbage history
Or by leaving the desk behind, so that no resolutions or buck can make their ways to me
For if something stops here, it’s certainly time to go
At least for a walk, but more likely for miles and kilometers and fathoms
On two wheels or feet, my direction is clear
And it’s not to gain anything, but to banish all fear.
Roman Ryan 