Gather Ye Rosebuds While Ye May by John William Waterhouse
He stands still in the subway.
Thinking about cheating fate.
His mind running across endless universes.
A smirk on his face, trying to permeate.
Through the decisions that he must make.
A road of wrath lies on one side.
A path of neglect and utter solitude it is.
The other one's easy yet immoral, and so he must decide.
There 's always a mean feat to prove.
Power can be proven only by action.
The fury of denial is clear on his visage.
The need to be someone is his possession.
There is not much time that he has.
Nobody will look after the sands are empty.
He has all he needs, all but his poise.
He stands steady, yet the ground beneath is slippery.
Unnatural thoughts of success light his numb mind.
However, they need to be more than images.
He realizes that but will he amount to more?
He needs his moment, or forever shall remain frozen.
As the world rushes on he sees them.
Trying hard to figure out his path to freedom.
Trying to find a mantra, a light in the dark.
He needs to walk on head held high, not succumb.
Slowly getting back his composure, there are few words on his lips.
Like a lunatic he repeats under his breath, “Carpe Diem”.
His chant growing strong inward, pulling through.
His mind once more abuzz, he looks upon the living world, determined.