I see that you have changed,
That you cannot forsake
The liberties of yore.

When unyielding mornings
Shake up winter days,
I cannot discern
The silhouette of possibility.

I can only fancy
New settings about,
I can only reckon
The crises you endure,
I can only figure
The resolves you choose,
I can only infer
The direction of your spirit …

Until I see you,
Until I know for sure,
Until I stop thinking
And learn the truth,
The salient merciless, excessive truth.

I have been outrun by the rivals of reflection.