i watched men return to their destruction reversed ruin in the puzzle of time i watched the bullets fly in wrong directions enter the guns that first fired them
backward flying planes. they must have been a sight to see
missiles torn and taken back to the men ordered to harm me
the knife repairs the wound the eraser creates the line beginnings fit into an hour opposites viewed in real time
wake up: dazed on the battlefield shells scatter and run away this place is familiar. its where i grew up.
the earth was created with a bomb.
it slips away. that is true. time does fly, but where does it go to?
my crippled pride before you burns i am but a weak shell of existence on a calendar marked and dated for my return