When

Picture myself on a grassy knoll, under a shady veil of a beech tree,

Lounging back, a worry not in the world on a sunny day, carefree.


A blissful breeze blowing in my face, caressing my hair,

Leafy shadows playing little games on my feet bare.


Strolling down a street, aside an array of many a  shops fancy,

A confident faint smile, arms loose on the side in their own rhythm merry.


Faculty to own what, place I a finger on,

Letting not a indecisive thought of the action to be even born.


My opinion becomes an action, my predilection someone's command,

Hegemony to dictate, my actions anyone endeavor not to reprimand.

Be scrupulous enough to veraciously demarcate black and white,

Adjudicate a million fates with one nod, such be my might.


Imagine I that day, know not how far away,

Inquire myself I, exist if it even may.

The thing only that makes me ponder,

When will it be if it ever is to be, or is it just a fragment of my wild imagination yonder?