I descry to the future in the past

I descry to find my past in the present

The Anachronisms of which plague my mind

Flutter around like butterflies trapped in a net

If only

If only one would escape to land on the aster

To land on that one lily

To land on the flower that might lead to something

A hint

A small particle of what it is supposed to be me

The anachronism of the world is so confusing

Everyone lives in it, yet no one understands it

I want to know

What order I have to piece the chronicles of my past

Just to find out where I’m going