[We wont survive this as we began it]

Well be dust or diamonds,
remnants of the selves we were;
some alter-him, some other-her.
We linger now, near metamorphic,
awaiting that one cosmic collision,
great continental shift,
or violent volcano
that is enough in its dying
to change us, move us
and leave us
ripe for the finding.
(One more day will not matter,
one more night will not change
the wickedness of waiting
in a world that stays the same
when the clatter of the cosmos
cant be heard above its pain.)
Still, a meteor is screaming
across a universal sky
on a collision course with destiny,
fueled by burning time
bound for its final destination
where it will lay its rubble down
with the hope that someday, somehow
its secrets will be mine(d).

[ and whether dust or diamonds, dear, is fine]



Copyright © Silent-No-More ... [ 2008-01-02 06:45:41]
(Date/Time posted on site)