Poetry About Future Novels & Stories

My future. And you don't have one.

A while later, a voice sounded from the area. “There is only the past and the present. There is no future. “The so-called future was extrapolated by several Grand Supernaturals using tricks of the Heavenly Path. “The future is filled with uncertainties. Anything can happen in the future. “Every living being can create a future and change the future.” James comprehended the paths silently.

The future, of course. The future that no one could predict was coming— and it was coming faster…faster than anyone could ever imagine.

I want us to create something beautiful, something only ours. I felt a lump rise in my throat as the words came out. "I want that, too. A future where we can be happy and free, without constantly looking over our shoulders.". He sucked in an anticipatory breath, as if he was going to say something important. "There's something I've been working on. Not just in the light of our immediate challenges, but something that will secure our future." I lifted my eyebrow, intrigued by his response. "What do you mean?"

I don’t know what the future brings, but from the looks of it, I think it’s a promising future. A future with peace and a lot of love.

"I know you misunderstood me. But what happened because of that misunderstanding—it was real." "What's done is done. You can't undo it. The scars in each person's memory don't fade." "That day in Switzerland was so cold that it finally let me let go of the past." "Zane was the one who helped me move on." "Let's just move forward. Nico, Arlo, Rhett." "We had a beautiful childhood. But from now on, I'm going the way I chose. The way I'm looking forward to." "And I hope—the Nico, Arlo, and Rhett from those childhood days—can wish me well."

My future had just begun. To be continued...

Like I could have a future that doesn’t belong to fear. And maybe—just maybe—that future might include him.

The future was long, but this time, I was going to tread it more slowly and more carefully. (The End)

And the ocean—that same ocean that had watched us as kids building sandcastles the waves would wash away, only for us to build them again—was going to be there too, close and quiet, asking for no promises. And for the first time in a long time, the future didn’t scare me. It made me want to live it. To cherish it. To celebrate it.