lux lucis

lux lucis

from Oregon, US

About "The Slip"

It’s not like we’ve been told
The air and the water make me old
I worry about that and forget about this
I stand up and get dismissed

Every time I slip
I’m holding the saw…

It’s not like we’ve been told
The air and the water make me old
I worry about that and forget about this
I stand up and get dismissed
In he mirror I see it, I’m afraid to tell
Churning and spoiling at the corner of Hell
I pick it up with hesitance
Death, war, plague and pestilence
I grip it and realize I can’t let go
And here, I always thought it would be slow
In the end, I get up, brush off and move on
When I turn back to look, the saw is gone

Every time I slip
I’m holding the saw

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