Today, no action only reaction
to sliding down a slope with no traction,
in a place where smaller and smaller
means the ground is closer closer.
The world must end but not tonight.

Today, thoughts are sand smoked through a short straw,
shards of old empty bones that burn lungs.
Infinite choices, only one chance to draw:
'No going back'. Is there something wrong?
The world will end but not tonight.

This Night, squeeze a drop of art from tarmac,
For the hope soon to be, or already, a lack.
To keep going, despite a knowing
in life there is no deserving.
Create an arc when there is none in sight.
The world may end but not tonight.

© Eva Irvine