Crumbling and Falling

Crumbling and falling would be easy if I didn’t cash in on this moment.
That it takes time, and every minute believing and trying…
Dashing across the sunset you won’t have any regrets, but it takes an uneasy calm, just this, that moment,
How ever hemmed and hawed and exuberant I may have been, it’s crumbling and falling and never ever backing out that my consciousness beams,
Why does time when I need that essence rely so solely on just another crackled mottled dawn?
I have no future. No trite appreciation of a mottled dawn, only crackled crevices in a sheepskin shawl, I have only a little worn.

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