Perchance

As far as eyes see, 
What is lost was uncertain; 
Perphaps a tribute  
Joy pays to sorrow. 

‘All the same, never fate be 
Where hope runs dry 
At the mercy of dreams to die...’ 
For perception is the public self. 

‘Choice is God’s gift, 
And decision is wo\man’s torment...’ 
And time is wo\man’s wheel, 
Riding those divine railways... 

‘By the way, 
About that bridge...’ 
(Might there be a single currency, you think, 
Over galactic years?) 

Indubitably,  it’s too bad we can’t deal 
With all the world’s ill in one sitting. 
All seven sins, 
‘In seven years?’ 

With all the visions...? 
And revisions?? 
Alas, indifference is the slime which expedites 
The downward spiral of despair; 

Precluding the friction, which obviates 
Resolution toward repair. 
(The truly heard 
Are not among the veritably hurt.) 
  
‘(There will be time, there will be time...)’ 
Not to have to justify; 
In place of incurable possibilities, 
The impossible! 

‘But to vindicate death 
Is by loving that dream!’ 
(Through the fiery muds 
Of hell's delayed truth?) 

Is this conditional, 
Or worse, arbitrary, 
Love (in loving), 
Unlike that death (in dying)? 

After all... (the same) 
Love is... where God lies: 
Free of choices, 
Silently sailing seas of choices.