Backwards, forwards flows the tide
Striving constant at the shore,
Cliffs by patient waves are tried
Boring tireless to the core.
Backwards, forwards moves my mind
Years and hours brewing threat,
Weary brainwaves delve and grind
Impatient minutes into sweat.
Boundless seas, always renewed,
Will fell the cliffs in mirrored time.
My lease is short, my axe is crude,
My cliffs still sound and death the rhyme.
Laundry thrown in the machine,
It gets finished, it gets clean.