What if I missed the last train to repeaterland?
What if I didn't take any photographs of fatalism's last stand?
What if I didn't bring any offerings when I worshipped at her feet?
You see I've been raised on movies with thinner and thinner plots
And bred apathetic to the darkness that consumes all available space
And knew nothing will survive us
Speechless when faced with a monumental guile that knows no beginning or end
They damp down expectation with practice and gritted teeth
They ambush reason with rope and a bucket of tar
They know nothing will survive us
Nothing will survive you and me
And the moments we didn't treasure
And the holes we attempted to fit into
Life doesn't exist outside of you and me
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem