One day, my shoulders will give in
Defiance will admit defeat, and they will
Drop, like the
Bone-weary man wrapped around himself, shivering in the cold.
The bold flame will smoke and shrivel, as
Time weaves a cruel dance over it, trampling my fire
When all that’s left is the thin gray wisps, I
Sigh, breathing it in
In a show of vengefulness, the hour hand turns
Faster and faster, and I’m left
In the eye of the storm, watching my life go by, backwards… or is it going
My eyes will close, and here I am again, stumbling
Fumbling in the golden fields, with
The sun on my face, just like it used to be, like
The moon never was.
From the very beginning, the smell of dew glinting off a sleepy sun
To the rebellion, the torturous climb, reaching
for the full glory of noon
I’m still fighting it, you know. The sun’s setting, but I haven’t given up.