Nick

We all have burdens; eruptions; ever growing mountains littered with responsibility.
Hoping that along the way we will stumble upon the path to our indentities.
You think that you shape your life, but is it your life that is shaping you?
Some of us climb the mammoths before us, others choose the easy route.
Harsh realities will blizzard on both paths so I guess theres no "correct" way.
Only one leaves you calloused while the other leaves you soft, but who is to judge?
Under shadows of accomplishment, what praise is worth the misery?
Listen to your "heart", the cliche and sad answer so often dispersed.
Don't mess up your life, it's enemy, neither a direction nor a remedy.
I want to live in a world where no one talks; where age grows modesty, yeilding silence.
Listen to the ones neck deep in material, cubes etched with iced stress.
Or accept the advice of the free floating fish, sheep on a muggy hillside.
Virtuous man or tax collector; Odysseus or Matthew; all just shells in the sea.
Ends marked with graves, not constellations, the cosmos only remember gods.
And now I am left dwelling on this truth I have decided upon.
Nearing 20 years old, a miasma clouds my mind, my outlook seems bleaker than most.
Year to year, day to day, each marks another stone either destroying or creating me.
Theres no omens or oracles or prophecies, only the air I breathe and the stars I see.
Hoplessly climbing, what may be a pyramid to bliss, a snow covered ladder to serenity.
Inverted valleys are mountains, though; maybe I truely am "trudging away to emptiness".
Never sure of what the peak ahead holds, what debt 'hard work' will really pay off.
Gold made Midas lose all he loved, but freedom is what made him greedy.
SHIPWRECK.