Admonish me tonight; it won’t matter

In the scheme of things. We are as dried dust

To each other now, and who is shattered

More at this unseen turn is debate we must

Have within some quiet place at some time

In the future when our hearts are not scorched

With anger and righteous wrath. Since we’re right

About the fire, but not which one torched

The house, we could quarrel for ages long

And still come to those conclusions which

Might satisfy some black need for revenge

But never a truth which would cause a switch

In the moral matches we burned in the end

Trying to claim ourselves for martyrs

We were not saints; I just hope we’re smarter

09/07/2001