Unless those days were shortened,
no flesh would be saved;
but for the elect’s sake those days will be shortened
Moving between points of time
Without strapping a rocket to this frail frame
the reality, however; is through that glass darkly
breaking through the gauze of sunsets, concertos, prismatic visuals,
forgotten refrains, moments, hours, seconds (stretching),
the rails of trains,...
though dared through quarantine
with the world watching and waiting
the light to fade
an attempt would be fatal to any human
time is an illusion; it is relative
all plastered out
spread eagle
embroidered into this
four-dimensional fabric of space-time
tear it down
rip it out
FSU
burn it to hell
the ashes return to Earth
ever so slightly younger
than
their identical twins that remain
OR to travel
wormholes between the fibers
in the blanket of time
while socially distancing one's self from:
Infinite cylinders,
black holes,
or cosmic strings
much more difficult than ripping down
a pile of stone
or stealing a phone
to write an insipid verse
set to a beatbox refrain
Don't tell me we don't have a time travel problem!
With every one of these low-life, landlubbers
tripping over their feet
spewing Pavlovian apologetics
f
or forces beyond our control.
Comments