Giving in

Marked

by a crime in another time before time before time unknown but so familiar in its toll;

the price paid

exacted by the knife of a dull dull blade.

A salve but no salvation in the 0,1,0,1

tick tick tick that

eases the need for contemplation or silence.

A trickle erodes this lifetime, gambling for the next,

a whispered atheist's prayer

for snake eyes.

Oh do soften those edges and let the honey flow

cascading a sweet sticky ribbon of hope in a mouth

dry from this day's weary tread.

Not to sweet as to forget the bitter

Not to sweet as to drown the lesson but sweet enough

to want more.

This is the giving in; the returning of this overripe coil, discounted sale date packaged to go.

This is the giving in; the time for pretending long past.  Belief only a distant echo like a child's laugh.

This is the giving in, accepting the final hours that creep along the horizon, promising, promising promising.

This is the giving in.