My Artful Sin Poem by Robert Beksinski

As you learn to walk down, that long road ahead.
And the torrent of wind that bustles the leaves, blows through you.
Flow within it, let it be your guide.
Your journey has just begun.
Give your attention to the wise stone that sleeps in the riverbed.
Take shelter in the flowers of hope.
Search until your very last breath for that sacred four letter word
That lies buried in the deepest caverns of the sun.
Remember this and know,
Your journey will eventually end.
Don’t waste it.