Standing here
Upon the precipice of time
Between the end and the beginning.
Do not cross the yellow line.
It is perilous, terrible with
Fireanddangerandsword.
The fog surrounding isolates me,
Life-fog icing over as it parts
From the human body;
Smoke clouding from a million mouths obscures their flickering flames—
The only lights I see are red.
And I am distant from you,
Distinct
Apart
Standing here, next to me,
Beginning on the end,
Waiting for the whistle which will bring us back to life.
Upon the precipice of time
Between the end and the beginning.
Do not cross the yellow line.
It is perilous, terrible with
Fireanddangerandsword.
The fog surrounding isolates me,
Life-fog icing over as it parts
From the human body;
Smoke clouding from a million mouths obscures their flickering flames—
The only lights I see are red.
And I am distant from you,
Distinct
Apart
Standing here, next to me,
Beginning on the end,
Waiting for the whistle which will bring us back to life.
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