Is it worth sacrificing the best moment for the best time?
Would you rather wait until the sands of time
Slip through the hour glass, down to last grain,
That barely fits through the whole?
Or stop the fall in place when it hits the speck,
That fits through perfectly,
Even if some lost grains were left behind?
Is it worth giving up peace for what’s right?
What’s supposed to be right.
What isn’t really right at all?
Is it worth the fall,
The chains, clinging,
Without knowing of the safety net
Prepared at the bottom?
Tranquility, emancipation,
Would you give up a listener’s best word?
When you know they only know the story
As it’s heard, rather than the
Author’s soul that’s plastered,
In every speck of blue liquid
That painted the page,
One spot, one grain
At a time,
Stopping when the story has finished,
Instead of waiting for the words to run out.
Is it worth it?
 
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