Rounding

Did I really believe
nothing remarkable
would burst again from
beyond time’s corner,
that all I had known
was all that was left?

With dismay I mull
the moments where I
entertained such a farce.
I wanted to pen life in,
wrestle it down, and
murder it, for it never
to pounce on me again
with its mangled teeth.
But slowly it has dawned.
Here only in one place,
I can never be truly safe.
My path has made me
no such promise.