…of time.
Turn to find tomorrow.

Perfect solar flare, discs in the sky, spinning round,
Space dragged on the wheels of this golden chariot,
Stars in the wake of these movements unbound,
a myriad of nebula complexion, the world I satiate.

And in my mind, I won’t change until I leave it all behind,
Myself, like the wheels of time,
Turn to find tomorrow.

I am the dark rot of sun in the sky, the crux of our heliopause,
The crush of forward thinking, the breath of our humanity,
I move through this void like a shadow on the skin of our cause,
Piercing the blackened bones with tattoos of our lost sanity.

And in my mind, I won’t change because my memory is blind,
Myself, like the wheels of time
Turn to find tomorrow.



The End

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