Coming to an end of times
"A chapter ends, a new begun," is said,
I wonder why, then
I feel so cold inside myself, and
fold myself inside myself
where desecrated places
charred by fires of my passions
ignited and extinguished
in the wasteland of the soul
where youth grew and wasted graces.
We are young yet.
Our words are wise to us
among ourselves
we split the coinage of our times
and half our classics prove passe.
We hoped to devote our dreams
to all that indestructs
knowing that in youth we speak
what in years we may regret
it cannot be helped
we are convinced
"that which we are, we are"
and "what will be, will be"
it is a risk, of course, that will unfold.
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