We’re breaking tradition
We’re making renditions
Of what is not
But could be
We’re not out of time
Time runs out of us
As we wither through rivers
Of loud reverie
Are we the masters of our song
Can we grow stars
From tears
Is there a tune
That dictates our rhythm
Leads us to ancient seers
Always we all
Are just doing justice
Unto our demons
Unto our saints
Always trying to save the tainted
Yet yearning fresh taint
How do we know
Which piece we are
Or if the puzzle
Is ever solved
How do we mark
Our own chapter
Before it gets dissolved
In silence there are notes
Soft, awake, saline
Let them float in
And complete the song
That is not yours
Nor mine
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