By: Samantha Gay (Vol. II, Issue I)

By: David Yoon

By: David Yoon

Time, the rhyme
That never fails
To chime the
Threat and caveat,
Painting the blind
Human canvas with
The blacks and whites,
The inevitables,
And untainted
Smiles and swings,
Impenetrably persistent
With its whines and rings.

What do you give up
For the sacred,
Dwindling rhyme?
Peace, accomplishment,
Entities so grey,
So undefinable by border,
Or prospect,
Circumspect of all
Common order…
Instead, fragments of
Magnitude and smallness,
Completely vague,
Compose these things,
Tossing them into the finite rhythm
Dependent upon fragile chance.

Forces of choice
Are at perilous play,
Strategy of the rhyme
A mirage
Laden with
Pawns and squares
At bay, approachable only
By tactful visage.

Breathe, consider
The indomitable weight of proposition.
Intuition in decision…
So bold,
A clarification
Of the secret story
Not meant to be told.

A tradeoff of the
Grand Rhyme
Can be wondrous
As glittering stars,
Or destructive, like
A demon bearing
Treachery from
The inferno of kept nothings.

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