There are secrets that we all keep within our most guarded selves:

That as youngsters, we are All-Knowing,
Immortal, and shan't waste our lives the way Old people have,
Shall follow our every dream, and live our lives as gods.

That as young adults, we are confused,
And find the expanse of life ahead to be too much to bear at times,
And notice the subtle fear of death that slowly stretches its shape in the clouds.

That as aging youngsters, we are panicked,
And find time to be quickening its once lumbered pace,
Rethink the singular hardships of our childhoods to reason our neurosis -
Fight the surrender of it all to abandon Immortal ideals.

That as middle-aged, we realize we are trapped
By Everything we once watched with contempt.
Blame is an easy exchange for the lost Self.

------

Now is always the place to fall into the Abyss:
Life holds its throat at bay, but imagined Courage can sometimes be
The illusionary effort that kills.
Your older self may at times question,
Should you yet young persist in a dream
And glimpse the elder in mirrors with doubts -
But later, shall hold you in their arms with the gratitude
Of a person who lived without Regret.