Burned and Thrown

Throw your gold
And burn your diamonds down.

(This section is stairsteps).
There's only here - no ever can case it.
There's only this second on your pulse;
There's just these present reactions.
The formula's too long to write
But could be memorized by mighty minds.

(This section is spiralled).
I love this blue nothing of itself.
I love that it has failed twice,
And yet I still rely on its kind blight
Inside my pragmatism.

I'm burned and thrown
And I'm better for it.