I know not the fate of what lies ahead
there seems such an emptiness instead.
So, here I'll stop to 'skent' a rhyme.
Traveling through time, to a certain place in mind:
the scenes I only portray, leave this to say:
When given a place to dwell: perhaps a wishing
well, toss fortune within: certain, untell
your dreams of tomorrow are born alive and then,
Commence with the lines as if known well.