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Transit ions

When the pace begins to get too fast
losing ground with each step taken,

the future is the perpetual past
another night I'll lie awakened.

The guilty will initialize
the innocent will pay the fees,

too late, we'll finally recognize
the bogus, random remedies.

Coerced by circumstances, fate
who's had no heart since birth,

solutions surface, but far too late
so situations fall on earth.

Attempting to keep a tame composure
which is all anyone can do,

no one deserves this kind of exposure
and serendipity rarely comes, through.

Minds will listen, and be still
broken hearts may stand a chance,

our cups of dreams may begin to spill
at least, we made it to the dance.

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing stage: 


And the future is our perpetual past.
So true and terrifying that we shape our own past!

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