Tomorrow is right now, only better
And untired,
Unwilted flower of fantasy,
Subtle odor without decay,
A chance to not betray
That which is already slaughtered
On the altar of yesterday.
Tomorrow is the rumor of our guilt,
The lie we tell ourselves which sweetens our todays:
Poisoned blessing of vanity,
Hide the hollowness we are….

Midnight is the promise the deception will endure.
Chime
Twelve strokes
Now
Fool
Laugh.