The split

Everyday time would stop
And stand still for me as I run amok
Just because I live a lot
Infinity is merely time to naught

Time to naught is infinity each moment
Yet he would scorch me in fiery torment
Time to halt is his daily sermon
My mind he would smite with an unceasing burden

I watch him go to the shining city
Infinity disdained for holy trinity
Burning ashes would incite no pity
No turn of heads or a mournful sorry

The split