Burn one down ( Again and again)

What would you do?

If awoken with tomorrow at your fingertips,

It was asked of you to shape,

In a truly determined fashion:

The Yet?


Would freeze.

Let time slip into a standstill,

Forever in definition

Against transcendence;

That revolt of past days.

And you’d be right to blame me,

With a cool timber tinted with righteousness,

You could call me a murderer.

But at least,

I couldn’t burn

It all down again.

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