Suppose I told you
today you'll die.

And you have one shot
to sink or fly,

to fight the tide
or drown or hide.

Suppose I told you
today you'll live.

You get only one moment
to truly forgive

yourself for all
the sins let in.

To finally cease
calling out for him.

Suppose I told you
this is all a dream.

Nothing you see
is what it seems.

Would it make any difference,
any change at all?

Would you choose to fly?
Or continue-
to fall.