Could I take what was meant to be mine, calm
Moments entwined with the thought of it could
Be clamed by my hand. sweat beads off my brow.

Twitching palms reach for the handle, chocking
On decisions that could follow. Could I let go of
This moment as it rushes forward, unfolding.

The mood was as silent, death was waiting on
The other side, could I let go and walk the opposite
Way, lose what was rightfully fraught in moments.

I could be post mortem in the actions that follow
Forward, a story untold, as I passed with a moment.
Could I provide moments that were flowed forward.

Could I take what was meant to be mine, calm moments
Entwined with the thought of it could be clamed by
My hand. It was one moment to be in my hand.

I forget the words that spelt the chains of holding,
An opportunity of single thought as words once
Again spilt forward. saved with a single thought.

This isn't for me a moment for a child to be more than
A father ever was, I was of word and conclusion would
Spell if my youngling would be more than I was not.