There is a cost for everything won and everything lost.
There is a cost for those we have forsaken and those who have forsaken us.
There is a debt paid and a price waged on not owning up to the blood on our hands.
There’s a cost for patent disregard and for counting our chickens before they hatch.
There’s a cost for taking everything and everyone for granted.
And when we least expect it there will be a burying and a raising of the dead.
I was astonished at how you improve my words with the flick of a guitar string.
I was transfixed with how you lend my writing a newfound sense of determination.
And there will be a reward for everything you have done for me in this life.
There’s a rigmarole.
There’s an easing into the chaos.
And there are wars that will be battled and battles that must be endured.
There is a cost for directions misdirected and a reward when we pay it forward.
There is a cost for all this cadaverous theology laid out before us like the body electric.
There’s a moral imperative pushing us ever onward to the outer reaches of interspace.