Click go the fears, boys,
click, click, click.

In time, terror will flow into you
like ink into a word
and define your life and how others
read you.

In time, beauty will betray you
with a kiss.
And the solstice will seduce you
to sleep in lamplit hallways.

In time, luxury will call you
to defend it;
and love will require you
to answer it.

In time, your voice will leave you;
and the tongue of your past
will utter nothing.

In time, the rim of your lips
will describe formlessness.

The sun will shear off its light.

Terror will become you.

Exile will take you
into its fold.

Click go the fears, boys,
Click, click, click.

Warwick McFadyen