When eternity has grown faint
But still waxes and wanes
Smoke screens dissipate
Confronted with cliches
That's the crux of this pace
When warrant falls into frame
And they reproach and maim
Bereft of intent and aim
They call you by name
Insistent to constrain
Notions of normal sustained

I'm a victim of process
And bound to result
Just plowing the field
Relentlessly to no end
I'm a victim of the same old stuff
My father was

Then time extends in pursuit of power
On either side
Curves and bends
For the suited hour
To form a line
That tunnels deep
Doesn't cower
And ascends high
And subdivides

I'm a vitriolic mass of dynamite
Just bound to ignite
Between the ides of now and then
I'm a victim of the rise, the rush
Beyond lexicon