Bright Apocalypse

It's a little spooky if I think of it at all

whenever I come in here words start bouncing off the walls

some hocus pocus in these crosses that I hang

turns a prayer into a boomerang

I say, "When will the chosen act?"

and the words come falling back

"How long will you stand by?"

There is no reply, only echoes

Start a bush on fire if it means a little proof

but don't let these phrases just float up and hit the roof

this room where I think answering belongs

always shifts and sounds a question twice as strong

I say, "When will the chosen act?"

and the words keep turning back

"How long will you stand by?"

There is no reply, only echoes

Maybe the Universe is clogging up Your ears

in Your old age You're just repeating what You hear