So now life is one long unblemished stretch.
Nothing to fear, nothing to dread.
Nothing to titillate except for that which I create.
Ultimate freedom limited just by the shackles of myself.

Protected by its newness,
This life does not yet dull or dismay me.
But the road ahead is barren.
The spectre of responsibility
Could destroy a thinking man
Lost in its infinitive vastness.
That the infinity is an illusion
Stirs another, more distant shudder.

I walk alone with the world at my feet, but just one world;
My own.
It will be only what I make it.