AN ETERNAL MOMENT

Walk me to the precipice of the threshold,

of sacrilege harbouring the happenstance of survival,

born of a consequence,

no more.

Time,

your tireless ambition,

empties space,

into the vacuous vaporizing inharmoniously.

Eternity is a living library,

there is no eternity without death or debt,

the harm and harmony of time,

a nuance of expired determinations,

hope is born from the presupposition of your desire,

the inclination to narrate the lost amplification,

somewhere in the estimation of extreme insistence,

leaking time into the abysm,

churning like butter,

into the congealment of extemporanous change,

changing now,

changing soon,

forever on the precipice,

of an eternal moment.