What are the odds,
It’s enygmatic
Tachicardic,
Trajectories all lost
Forsaken by all gods.
Solutions found and all crossed,
All gone.
All that’s dissolved,
All that was sacred —
Is now dismantled, decomposed.
Retract your Sins
Reverse the Time
I sent petition to resign.
You tossed it —
I am exhausted.
Not destroyed.
What are the odds?
Who would have known?
War-beaten, silenced,
Overturned.
Trajectories not lost
Forsaken by no gods.
