No Horizons - This Or The Apocalypse

Five long years

A static perimeter engulfed the sky

And I think a sixth one could be deadly

I am comprised of worlds

Yet nothing seemed so small as my own printed hand

We don’t drift apart unsung

We are pushed away by something dark

And we do not go gently into anything at all

Conviction in the dying power of your city

Two dim-moon eyes stay fixed

On two worlds unjarred, coinciding

And all I hear is one single booming voice declaring, «Now.»

Is it more than we bring to bear in these tactless benedictions?

I want to know if you doubt the way I doubt

I want to know if you lie the way I lie

Five long years, coinciding