It Flees...

And now it resists.
It pulls at the wrists,
Those of our time
That shall not exist.

And still it retreats.
Extracting itself from the elite,
We shan't consider the same
With our fear of repeat.

And further it ebbs.
Running still from this web
Of deceit and desire,
Clearing it's mind from our head.

And the further it sneaks,
The more defined the oblique.
We lay our faith in what should still be,
Yet know it is us that is weak.

by Adele
posted on 05/11/2009