Another simple epiphanic end.

"we sing our own melodies..unfinished though ..walk our own roads.. bare-footed, rough land.. we damn our own destinies.. break away the links.. a comatosed vision.. beyond the other's horizon.. the cross-road of doom.. mocks at the dreams that loom..disappointed.. the irrational promise.. sealed with smiles and warmth, careless.. we got hustled.. ... See more and now we're lone.. singing unfinished melodies.. against the word of completing the other's.. walking a rough road.. for we got off that load.. of sticking 'round.. and standing a together ground.. we're all grown up.. and grown ..out of the reverie.. that hustled us in.."