We sit on the edge of a cliff
Time slips between lips
Into maw of change
You cannot define
With the wights of lies
As the phantom mires
Flow forced the current of events
Dead-end senses deaficit
But wholly now
As long as dates shall give a name to time
Cut so blind
With the bleating edge of the scythe
Millenarian futures buyer
With your hand on the rudder
Just guiding against the flow
Clearly not seeing the writing on the wall
This is the edge
This is the end
The marginal
On a day that you just might find yourself
With your back against the wall
Face to face with a choice to make
And a sense that this is all
Behold the Eschaton and see
The edge of every maybe
Behold the mortal coil turning
A singularity
May you never outgrow your tribal state of mind
May you never suffer interesting times
Route the future through leylines made of light wire
Til it expires
Any day now you just might find yourself
With your back against the wall
Face to face with a choice to make
And a feeling this is all over
A new world if you take it in your hand
A new world if you think you handle it
