what a beautiful phrase -
pregnant with possibilities
grant of a gracious fate.
Run, run away from the past,
run from the clamour which leaves you aghast,
run - for all baggage you've shed-
but where will you hide that face ?
Abandoned loves will rise up
and claim you for their own,
lost places will haunt your dreams
and never leave you alone.
No matter how far you go,
and what streets you may roam,
fate will yet grind you to a fine dust-
before long, you will be shorn of all hope.