• paradoxroutine 10w

    Race against Creation

    If you saw the ghost of me.
    Would you finally pick up the pace?
    Time is lacking, meter by meter.
    Stop slowing down to catch up.
    It's not how this chase works.
    Potholes and pitiful grins.
    Are the only things,
    Thee only things,
    These side lines seem to give.
    So you better find a reason to live.
    Before the finish line swallows you whole.
    Dash past and find a way.
    Because right now.
    Now...
    Your so far away.
    But I want you on my heels.
    Lap me and encircle me.
    Conquer me with a storm,
    Of haste and flash.
    I don't want to be first.
    I just want to see you for the last time.
    As you pass by to win this fleeting meeting.
    Of souls lost to the translation of creation.
    ©paradoxroutine