Wednesday's Tilt

Will Wednesday equal moments to my death

What holds longer

Destiny or days of tomorrow

Will a conscience rise

Or such a thing a surprise to knowing

Who holds deadlines

Supercilious sprigs on a vine

Or no way there

Instant prayer then

Let there be a better path

Who let in a devil as a score keeper

A troublesome little bleep on the radar

Of no forgiveness

A harrumpfh on the watch on a broken wrist

Will Wednesday equal moments to my death

A moment's satisfaction might be your last

Borrowed thought

What did we all come together for

To lose now?

Sona makeshift magician could trample

Doors of all minds

To stop what race

To bring the curtains down on grace

To please the centre of their own being

Because surely I won't be shining there

The greatest lesson of all was to do good

With all gifts

Never to force the arrow further

Than the mark itself

Or target be themselves

They, not realizing

When I step outside myself

The game will be over

No longer will the reflection be of Themselves

Peace secret want

I don't want to die on Wednesday