Gasoline
The yawning chasm
The muscle spasm
The heavy eyelids
That cry for more unrest.
There aren’t enough hours
For me to complete towers
I began many moons ago
Though I work the mortar daily.
I’m a stardust child clean
Now laced with gasoline
Strike a match
Watch chemicals react
See me explode
This heart barely intact.
– Vagabond Prophet