Adulthood

The first awareness: a reckoning, a glimpse of being mortal,
Eager to grow, to morph, to transform, to transcend —
and, above all, to survive.
Animals we are, sentient we claim to be — but are we?
Bound by urges, lusts, desires, yearnings,
all we do is chase, like any other that lives.

The second: when limbs protrude, flesh expands,
He runs — and sprints, testing the bounds of physique.
Each step he takes longs to gather other souls,
Yet once he has enough, he gasps, yearning to return,
To be as he was before it all began.
A creature confined, held within its own box.

The last: he hears the warnings of his ancestors,
Grasping again for what remains invisible to him and others.
He feels the weight amass and, at last, realizes —
A mortal he is, incomplete in morals.
Alas, becoming a man is not the bravery he once believed;
To him, becoming a man is the fear of dreaming his own dreams.