Lapping ourselves in repetition
catching words in the wind
“the end is near” they warned
yet we live it again and again

The morning, the night
the naps in the afternoon light
past the fright of never waking from our slumbers
half asleep through shaking thunders

Blunders and error that cost us great
now marked off as the will of fate
never wishing to be separate in our standing
a peace of mind the only demanding

There was no time to look back
there was little that we could do
we played the game put forth for us
until there was little left to prove

Now we wait
between the hard lines and warm breaths
amidst the warnings and bold threats
the same old sweats and cold bets

One day we will end
and that day will be tragic
or we could start today
and live away our little lives of magic


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