Maybe Next Time

silently,

you let it take hold,

slowly spreading

until it consumes all there is;

it is then

you understand;

so much left unattended,

so much wasted,

words never uttered,

dreams and ambitions

never mentioned,

focusing for one last shot,

you let it build within,

a giant apocalyptic fire,

waiting for just the right moment

to release this blazing energy

which destroys all that it touches;

old wounds heal slowly,

lines between past and future

become blurred,

by the smoke of empty visions

which never stood a chance;

oh yes,

it is here we lay our tired heads down,

calling out for old debts

paid many times over

by those who never understood

just what it was

they were paying;

maybe next time.

.

.