August 21, 2012

This doesn't have a title

all of this.
we sleep with power.
some don't sleep.
i prefer the winds.
sun down sun up sun down again.
breaking patterns.
produce clouds and make us assume
because we didn't see
and we couldn't see
in the darkness
that was artificially real.

plan this game.
plan the attack.
all of that planning will disappear
with the single roll of the dice
down the hill
and into the gutter
where you get snake eyes.
i don't know if that's technically bad
but i rather not get bit.

and all of you will continue to love
and continue to hate
and continue to travel the spectrum
until the traveling stops.
there will be no refs.
no coaches.
no players.
no game to play.
recklessness and endangerment
was the path of the day
but today
we met destruction.

these are colors of desire.
this is how we live.
and sometimes, we don't live.

and when we don't live we waste.
and when we waste we hurt.
and when we hurt we reach.
and when someone grabs us we live again.

but time is infinite.
but ours is limited.
and ours is wasted.
and ours is precious.
but its infinite for all those things
that can not measure it.

the message will get lost
upon the lack of care.
and then you will never know
what a legacy was.
and you will never have a page.
and you will never have a title.
so you're better off staring at the sun
than praying for rain.

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