We had it all ahead of us,
obeying what we could not see,
the night was rightly planned,
events unfolding catastrophically becoming,
a misty memory.

Each star a way point,
our path no direction,
we crawled through the night,
we fought to reach the end,
so many roads ahead,
we span around and around our own heads,
trippy mystical experience,
the night was young. 

Ceasing fun,
what is done is done,
out on the run,
running from the end,
ourselves,
our escapade blurred into reality,
begin another day.