there would be images in time
supposing their was time left to
breathe
supposing their was air
& the sky was not blackened
& our wishes had not moved
underground
where they were safer from an atom's
frost
& there would be life here
& echoes of the living
& many things left
unexplained
& these they feed
on the pleasure of fear
in their fantasies
they had the power
to destroy it all
the pressure of control
implodes & yearns to let go
& this is where fear is a comfort
the same place
where empathy dies
if you see it in another's eyes
you needn't feel it yourself
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