The Future is Mud and Ice


There is a future that I fear,

I see it masking its opportunities in mud and thawed icicles

Waiting to be reached at or grabbed at just the same

I think it held its coolness for a while,

I think it was trying to assume repose

But the fever of great await sweat out of its pores

She melted her only preservation

And I guess prayed no one could see

I think no one noticed how she drowned her body in earth

Then rummaged through oceans for equanimity

I guess all she found were some ice sticks

And held them closely before they ran

But mud and water is not clarifying

And I saw the creature feigning repose

Perhaps I was the only one

But I shuddered at the auspicious sight

That she should be worth waiting for —

That finally reaching her was only right.

But all I feel is fear

I feel terror beyond my sight,

Because she is not what I will create…

We are both bombed against each other and asked to be patient and then fight.

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