Distant roads are ahead of me. I long to meet you. The wait never really ends. 

Schopenhauer – flitting between being hopeful and desperate never really ends.

I am in search of “the best minds of my generation.” Those that howl in madness. 

They do math or write poetry. And wonder why the hate never really ends.

Should we assemble words to last, or does function singularly dictate form?

And does beauty really matter? This ancient debate never really ends.

A tale of the human condition: “Iztiraab” and “Ennui”, words in Urdu and French, 

are used in poetic claims that our dissatisfied state never really ends.

Frankl thought of logotherapy – The Will to Meaning – in the depths of darkness,

concluding the last of human freedoms – what’s great – never really ends.

A Himalayan and an Alpine carry the memories of being in love in the Sierra.  

Their gratitude to the gods of romantic fate never really ends.