Let us be free of the future, the written one at least,
The one pre-ordained.
All those gods and destinies —
Leave them be.
Instead, let us find a true path to peace.
Let’s see each other as we are today.
Admitting to what we do not know.
Admitting to what we’ve done,
In this world and beyond.
Admitting to this violent fate our words have made.
Let us live by the elusive truth of a different poem,
One that has no prophesies to make.
One outside of time,
One that comforts the dead.
We snuck a different way through the ages.
Between the rigid coasts of the seas of the damned souls,
Dogma growling at our heals while we sailed.
Because we were the damned of that word.
Let no one be damned anymore.
The dangers of the letter are in the fascination with false eternities.
Time does not wait for our faith,
Nor our understanding.
The future is unwritten.
Fate is ours.
Peace is ours.
Don’t let the strained destinies of some prophets,
And the greed of some poets take that from us.
Free yourself from the future.
The future is unspoken now.
Speak something untethered from it all.
Unmoored.
Be mad, be wild and creative —
Speak only of peace and the elusive truth.
Speak of something new.