In my head a thousand problems kindle and glow,
A myriad of questions wrestle, tussle and flow,
I feel weighted in heart, with drops of burning lead,
Which with patience, I have to douse before I'm dead;
And though the lights in me flicker, dimmer and faze,
I keep my visions hopeful, bright, fiercely ablaze,
For no instincts more have I that I can borrow,
My chosen paths are the ones I have to follow.