Transcendence.

What ever I want in tomorrow
silence progress or love
what I did yesterday
would always decide
what I get tomorrow.

The philospher can talk
the thinker can think
the doctor can analyse
but none can touch the link
of tomorrow that came in
from yesterday.

Intoxicated I roam
only to hear me sing
my song
from where did I come and why
and where do I go and why.