Where do we trace our steps to?
Retrograde is
Just a mirage
Every second a slam
That leaves the time done behind
But the phantom
remains
Egging the do’s
You and I
tethered evermore
In the now
In this game of neurons
firing synapses
Like wild monkeys
In the primal forest
Slaves remote controlled
By hormones
And chemical reactions
Every micro second
Rehearsed rehashed forever
The atoms do the
dance
What a game we play
Never undoing
Where the brave pawns
Knighted show off their mighty glistening swords
gallops around
Not bowing even to the King
I watch the game advancing
Failing to know who you are,
The King, bishop or the pawn
Or the giant castle
And i wonder
Do i forfeit?
or
Who am i turning into?
This white piece on this board?
The steely queen, the neighing mare or just
an Abbess in a cloak?
