I refuse

no.
no.
no.
no.
no.
no.
no.
no.
no.
no.
I refuse.
I refuse.
I refuse to accept.
I refuse to accept that this will be the greatest moment of my life.
I refuse to accept that this will be the end of my dreams.
I refuse.
I deny.
I deny the Gods the privilege to put me on hold.
I deny the Furies the gesture that will put me to sleep at such a tender age.
I refuse.
I refuse to hibernate till the night of my death.
This will not be the great act upon which my history will be written.
This will not even appear in the summary of my feats.
This will be merely dust.
This will only prove to be the overture of my magnum opus.
This will simply provide the leitmotiv for my narrative.
This will just play as the theme for the jazz concert.
I yet do not know what will be of me,
except that that will not be this.
My odyssey is far from complete.
My flock has only left the shed. 


The best is yet to come.