Midnight 333

Year nearly complete
Big Apple in the rear view
I'm a trusting fool

Like a cannonball
Words hit like a ton of bricks
But which will persist?

My only weapons
So I do my best to craft
Pray for miracle

That this even split
Will result in nothing more
Than a choice granted

Even if a man
Perishes in the balance
I'd count it as gain

For I could not bear
To take anything from Love
It must be given

And if it is not
Let my final words be love
Set free as a bird

It's my solemn wish
That a blessing may (yet) bloom (from)
This null perspective

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