First Cause
October 18, 2007
Begone ye flightless morrow;
Revel, thou chieftain, in this dark moment,
Waning Luna and decision matured.
Today, fling wide the cellar door,
Let breathe the vintage bottle;
Yes, all future haste away—
Abide this fair swarm of present,
Bored of foresight and inspire.
Lay out on silken boughs this hour
And fear all naught;
Hail, angel of immortality,
Speak thy golden tongue
And break the bond of consequence!
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