It's years to go before
The thread comes loose
And in the process, tighten
The noose below the head
And why instead of fear
To lose all that is dear, you dwell
On hell, or heaven, you can't tell
Both nil and of no use
The paradise you searched
In youth, in these years tarnished
Has leveled out, no more obscure
Than your adult composure
And sure of nothing, you are wise
To blame the randomness of lies
To human nature
And not mankind's demise
What is a pull on a loose thread
To fall away in pieces
Like glass regressing back to sand
Or coal diamond releases
You pray the prayers of the most
The cause with no direction
And sink under your own perfection
To know free will is a dead host
I say to you, a friend is near
And it is you, and it is clear
That soon the world will sort itself
Hold on to every stitch and count to twelve