And thrill
(Or what you will)
Sells selfies, sex, and soap;
Shills hangman's rope so all can cope.
Say nope.
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And thrill
(Or what you will)
Sells selfies, sex, and soap;
Shills hangman's rope so all can cope.
Say nope.
Say nope?
Whatever gives
one hope will let one walk
through walls to yes to take a breath
and live.
And live
A lie? Fie no!
Not I! I'll walk through walls
After I die; and breathe that breath
At death.
At death
we rest at least
though some hope we do less
than that with our eternal rest
at death.
At death
You say we rest.
It's really just a guess.
Confess! We know not if we're damned
Or blessed.
Or blessed?
Or damned? Or worse,
perhaps, if nothing should
appear. No light. No rest. No warmth.
No peace.
No peace
Be found within
This broken heart of mine
Wounds frozen in time's great grasp be
Laid open
Laid open.
Till the Sun has
set. It’s Time that’s done. We
will forget and it will stop-start
the clock.
The clock--
And is that it?
It chimes. It swings its times,
Its pendulum. Me, I just spit
The pit.
The pit
where Tim was left
to die was fit for those
who wondered why they were the ones
God chose.
God chose
To look, to look
Away. Do you suppose
I know or think I know a thing
To say?
To say
or not to say
is like some Hamlet’s task,
an indecisive way to miss
a chance.
A chance--
So some ascribe
The workings of all our
Sacred jive and cynical cant.
No chance.
No chance
and also no
determinism can
excuse what we have done or did
not do.
Not do?
You tell me now
That somehow it won't do?
Why I made it especially
For you.