Split at a stand still

where the way forward

is forked in an infinite.

Once more to run up the hill

crawl below as a coward

or exceed my limit?

I put the fear on mute

plans for the future stashed

the rememberance forgotten.

We sweat swallows

the long back of my neck.

Nothing around allows

to break out the doubt.

My condition is to execute

with feet grounded in lead

sorrowful, ambitious, sisyphean.

One Page Stories


Maybe ¯\(ツ)_/¯ Great

Personal site of Ondřej David

curious creator, writer, designer, futurist

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