Some nascent clarity had once pulled me under this same dull light.
It seems darker now, but it was stronger,
Resilient as it drew away from this jagged horizon
That has since torn to frays my once endless western sky.
What stands before me is unattainable, yet sustained by lethargy,
The slow burning of a reflective effigy
That ceaselessly shatters with the sound of a thousand claps.
--I always miss the first act, acting in intentions of action,
But stagnant in the actuality of what has always happened.
The fear of death is in the shadow of indecision;
There can be no perfection if aimless fate has no precision.
So let the stars lie flat in a memory revisited,
Let the sun abandon symmetry with its petals all twisted,
Let the tide lose its temper as it foams at the crest,
To the weary and bested: Put this theory to rest.