Grown with his years and I can still speak truth. Blood to drench another grave from your different sacrifice. It’s your own blood that builds this tower of hate. Embrace yourself, for it’s too late. Your razor blades can cut through glass, but your hope is made of steel and resists the blades. Held so tight, excavate and pray tight for your 30 seconds, 30 seconds left until sunrise. Smile you just lost, your buckled knees collapse to the sound of a voice because you’re no longer alone. You never claimed to manifest solution, but to be a part of anything shows all that’s past. This hope instilled within, your self-righteous being, your one true regret. We watched the sunrise, a new day to another life. It’s 30 seconds, 30 seconds left until sunrise.