Forever might be short.
What I desire, is today which slips from my hands
every other day. Tomorrow is a million light-years away!
In my palms to forge, to carve mere clay
for now, to mold into a sculpture of my dreams
to manifest into reality like potent Kratos.
The here and the now is my throne of execution.
The day after, not my mug of cappuccino.
Forever might be short.
Prompt motivated from https://www.napowrimo.net/one-day-to-go-and-an-early-bird-prompt-3/
celebrating the April Month of Poetry 2022
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