We are alone

We stand before a crevasse,
Unknowingly upon a tangent,
Confined and freed,
To plough unchartered realms,
Of the meaning of our birth.

Constricted by time,
A tight circle stretching beyond,
Seducing change with each stroke,
Of the ever moving second,
To the calls of pleasures unknown.

To yearn is our curse and delight,
Stretching us to infinity,
To find that in us of beauty,
Unparalleled, undenied,
As the stroke of individuality.

That which separates, binds us to each other,
Unique and unfathomable,
As we struggle to be,
That which defies understanding,
Individuality.

That which we hide from,
In a need to conform,
The accepted that entwines,
The expectation of what we should be,
Til the mirror shines upon a stranger.