I'm awake to a blank slate, I don’t determine all that's written on it, Dawn doesn’t give an empty plate, I create my ambience in its heat. I try to make my slate blank, Dawn's imprints are adamant, Like a willful tyrant, It's my mechanism’s crank. I'm chauffeured by dawn, I walk on its highway, It's a mileage I'd rather not run, I'm simply a mortal clay. I come to the world as a blank slate, I'm inscribed on walking through dawn's gate, I become saddled with life’s perplexities, I push through complexities. We’re created blank, We sojourn listening to guiding voices, We see, learn and make our choices, Pressing on until the last rank.