Push The Button

Push The Button
by Keaton Foster




In this chest, a shrouded space,
Between these eyes, a shadowed trace,
Beyond the veil, deeper still,
A fractured trail within my will.
A mechanism hums, unseen, untold,
Its gears of mystery, sharp and cold.

Push the button. Set it free.
Turn it on, or let it be.
Shut it down—if down it bends—
A riddle born where knowing ends.
I don’t grasp what it commands,
Its origin escapes my hands.

Wires twist in tangled streams,
A labyrinth of silent screams.
Where do they lead? What source ignites
This inner sky with restless lights?
How does it hold its ceaseless charge,
So small, yet looming fierce and large?

Hands unbound, I stand and wait,
Voices mute before this fate.
Levers slip, the dials defy,
A force I feel but can’t untie.
Will another, bold or blind,
Reach within this maze of mind,
Trip the switch I cannot see,
And spark what might awaken me?

Will I fade, a husk to rot?
Or blaze alive, a piercing shot?
Explode in shards of untamed flame,
Or implode, a muted claim?
Will I drag you in my fall,
A requiem to bind us all,
Or bear alone this weight I dread,
A solitary end unwed?

Push the button. Fear no blame.
I call to you—I speak your name.
With trembling breath, I plead, I press:
Court my death or grant me less.
Find the trigger, buried deep,
The pulse within the guarded keep.
Press it firm with steady hand,
Unleash the tide beneath the sand.

Watch me shift, or watch me stall—
A phoenix born, or nothing at all.
Perhaps a click, a hollow thrill,
Or stars ignite, and skies fulfill.
A bomb ticks soft within my skull,
A heart that lulls with lethal pull,
Circuits primed to split the air—
A bloom of doom, or something rare.

The fault’s not yours, nor yours the reign,
You’re but the weight in my refrain.
A spark to ends I can’t foresee,
A catalyst—or mystery.
Beyond the now, beyond the when,
Outside the grasp of mortal ken,
Fate unwinds what chaos ties—
So push the button. Damn the skies.

It won’t retreat, this ceaseless hum,
A force no will can overcome.
Shut it down? That hope is dead—
It breathes, it lives where I am led.
Life and death entwine, transcend,
Not stark divides, but threads to bend.

Through fragile choice, a spark takes flight,
Light fractures dark—or yields to night.
We teeter here, this brink, this seam,
And only action cracks the dream.
So push the button. Let it be.
Unveil what hides inside of me.



Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2025