In Sync, Par Repetition

Is this moment in sync, or an act of repetition? 
I swear my last choice was a step forward, but everyone 
keeps telling me it’s just frantic reversal. 
Am I on route, or already buried beneath the path? 
Here I am, studying some stupid map, inching forward 
on borrowed fate, completely in debt of something for which 
I remain an ingrate, I see nothing here, certainly nothing to investigate, 
and I mean for fuck sakes, I’m already late! 

Please. Don’t judge me. 
I’m just trying to chase Ms. Reverie. 
Follow the plot, keep my head aloft and 
maybe I’ll see her finally at rest. A chance to bend to one 
knee, out of breath, while she giggles playfully. 
Please, call me Passion. 
I can’t suppress my hope, a priest of promise rocketing, hardly can I cope. 
I present my gift. The totem of my trails and endless tribulations. 
Examiner, have I earned my right to have you? 
She looks up. One simple grin. 
She’s off, and so am I, desperate to conquest my unshakeable sin. 

What did I do wrong? Did I make a mistake? 
I’m working so hard to be today 
anything but a pale imitation of yesterday. 
Tomorrow requested I be better dressed, but still I 
wear these crumpled rags, a monday pest. 
Even friday rolls its eyes. It knows the only option 
that will impress her is the naked wealth of my honest best. 

I’ve read about it, you know. The victors of this weary way. 
The tales that on some beautiful day, 
Passion remains still and curious, 
just long enough to tell some lucky bastard okay. 
Yet here I am. Always being outpaced. 

Close to the finish? No, but the sun is soon setting. 
Time to rest, since all the same, I know some hope will grab me, 
shake me violently, and in a quick moment whisper: 
‘Together, forever, all we can do is pray’ 
So be it. I prepare to meditate. 
Passion watches from afar, impressed. 
I’m quite the spectacle, the one who won’t quit. 
If only she knew what I would give up, to seal my dream. 
She chuckles. 

What a colossal mistake.

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