postmodern means
of men, machines
faint vestiges
aimless to behold
that, Divina, we could leave tonight
we could leave tonight
to questions lost
in the meantime
your tongueful of answers
fall hollow and abhorred
tread no further
where further love
could be untrue
unknown to you
that, Divina, we could leave tonight
we could leave tonight
so here is to youth
here is to our own
sacred voice of will
tasting dissolution
in every given moment
we refuse to believe
that, Divina, we could leave tonight
we could leave tonight
would you want to?
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