The Regime

and in the animosity of the moment
it's almost beautiful
when you won't look at me
with the glaze in your eyes
matching the haze in the skies
and the emptiness
the ever-expanding
not withstanding
makes a landing
in the planes of discontent
and the sudden swell of sadness
takes a new form of madness
shrinking the opacity of the stars
but the stars don't stand beside us
and they're not the ones who guide us
through the infinite sprawl
that calls your name
it isn't important to stay
just so long as you play
and please, oh please, I pray
you won't get lost
and in the moment of decision
I can't stand your derision
or the angry look in your eyes
that has become almost permanent
because the expression on your face
obscures any attempt at real grace
and in this passionate tournament it's clear
that your fragile heart has been frozen
in its own private space
because what's the harm
in feeling thawed?
in being flawed?
in playing God?
because the dreams that you dream
are never what they seem
and in the moment of revision
I couldn't tell you what I mean
so you asked again
and you stole the advantage from me
because that's what you do
you do, and you do, and you do
but you never really accomplish
anything, do you?
Let's revisit!
come sit, you're late
oh dear, don't hesitate
really, it's great
to wait
and wait
and wait
and wait
and wait
and wait
for the very simple, single, solitary
last word
and again we're in the moment
where the palpitation in the air
just seeps
excuses
and lies
and doubt
and love
and it's almost beautiful how
perfectly stupid this entire
agenda has become
because really
REALLY
it's no use