Be prepared: I shall not make way for thee But thou shalt make way for me!
I am not the one Whom hath planted future’s seeds But reap upon the ground... of this moment So I may peel away life’s clarity And slice thy previous intentions into tiny dreams
Demise: An absolution of what once was; Commanding relief From thy commitment Old sentiments shall have no other use But to shine like glass on brittle pages
Yet, I shall repay your futile efforts The transience of mourning over definite loss Whilst confronting thy identity Through deformation past recognition Until thou findeth another self
Consistency is so easily cut Unawares by my scythe Which is known to have stripped shadows from mirror souls As I cross thy existence With the certainty of fate pinned to my heels Pinned to my heels
So, be prepared For I shall not make way for thee But for a different aftertime that follows me!