We Will Detonate

I chipped the final remaining cyan pieces of you off my skin

Nostalgia turned to bad memories, and misadventures to sin

Aeonian melancholy isn’t worth the more bittersweet repasts

From that moment stars were erudite, it wasn’t meant to last

Maybe it’d be better for us if I didn’t manoeuvre to intervene

And I let the watch tick counterclockwise, I would never win

In the end, there is no ending, only the beginning of the start

Of the countdown of the detonation that would tear us apart.

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