Cardinal Directions - ThouShaltNot

I split the atom of one second

Choosing history’s lathe

Each word summons now the next

A master to his slave

Countless links

Within some silent chain

And time becomes the sediment that drifts to algae

Divorced from comets' trains

In the East, a reflection

Of the Western sunset

North, South, pole to pole

Turn back in regret

And to the East I might stumble

To the West I would crawl

And if North is the winter

Then South is the fall

And if I had my way, I’d make the clock rewind

I’d live again that moment, though I know I’ll never find

The future that I missed, a parallel line

Where the world would be so bright that it could make us all go blind

And if I had my day, there’s so much I’d reclaim

The sanctity of motion, the neverending rain

The cardinal directions, all pointing to the past

Where realities converge, and for a moment, we’re the same

And magnets spin the compass

In an embryonic flame

Somewhere is the promise

Of an uncharted trail

With seven hundred branching limbs

And seven hundred ways to fail

To the East, a reflection

Of the new moon in the West

Her timeless watch is quiet

Over tides of her unrest

To the North is the current

Of a man breathing out

Giving birth to the breeze

To be inhaled in the South

And if I had my way, I’d make the clock rewind

I’d live again that moment, though I know I’ll never find

The future that I missed, a parallel line

Where the world would be so bright that it could make us all go blind

And if I had my day, there’s so much I’d reclaim

The sanctity of motion, the neverending rain

The cardinal directions, all pointing to the past

Where realities converge, and for a moment, we’re the same

Same as always

Same as always

And if I had my way, I’d make the clock rewind

I’d live again that moment, though I know I’ll never find

The future that I missed, a parallel line

Where the world would be so bright that it could make us all go blind

And if I had my day, there’s so much I’d reclaim

The sanctity of motion, the neverending rain

The cardinal directions, all pointing to the past

Where realities converge, and for a moment, we’re the same