Saintly words at the Devil's hour

[Thoughts that saunter in at 3am, penned (with shamelessly ripped off words from 'Home' by Daughtry)...]

If life and time allowed for but once

To go back to revisit, that which is done,

To step back in sepia-toned memories,

To re-witness the good, the bad and the mundane all over again,

What would I do?

Into the faithful world of what ‘was’ from the insecure clutches of what ‘is’,

If only could I transcend,

Would I be as belligerent, as convinced, as univocal as now?

Or is it a question of being careful of what I wish for,

In case I just might get it all,

And then some I don’t want.

If only Physics allowed, I would venture into antiquity,

Slip into comatose, an island full of compartmented people,

People, each in their assigned walled rooms,

Faithfully one-dimensional, yet completely my own to keep,

More me than who they themselves be.

Or is it unripe, still, to populate it with people,

For leagues and leagues wait to be befriended,

And yet many more to be antagonized.

How to tell when it is just enough?

How to tell the rolling stone when not to roll and gather no moss anymore,

For the wanderlusts, the itinerants, are never men of content.

Having toyed about a while with the fantastic thought,

A thought in vain, a thought worth naught,

I think I’d rather do without this skeletal limbo,

Of unspoken lies, of undone deeds,

of half-dead dreams, of untouched realms,

Of half-cooked relationships, of fractured pleasantries,

Of capitalized ramblings, but unengaged action.