Purpose

I have a fear of my unseen boss whose whisper like a hiss I hear whenever I pass the rivers edge. Really I do not understand the dialect but I believe it's like my deceased loving mother's advice; 'Please take care of yourself my mischievous son and remember well there is a purpose on this paralytic journey.' I response with a shivering to my faraway masterful creator; 'I am innocent like a litmus paper; turns red by acids and blue by alkalis. Please let me scribble on this mystery Earth until they finish the reading.'