Epiphany


The realization
that nothing happens for a reason is true death
Fist fight fatigue after finding out
that fate is a thought-that-counts kind of word
This car crash conundrum
befalls the benevolent
Tears are not what's at fault
but we blame them anyway
like the pitiless sodden beads they have become
Breath?
Doesn't want to be a witness
and dissolves its marriage to lungs
without the least bit of reluctant abdication
As streets stand still, clatter and discord disembark
and the lambent arms of street lights and stars
wrap around me like one night stand affection
Widowed from absoluteness
lingering in-between death
and a heart that's trying to win a race
I know that fate is a concocted idol
a forged deed with a counterfeit seal

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