Posts Tagged ‘time’

Life is a long dusty road,
We all know it in our being,
It is a foregone conclusion,
Built to test and vex,
Winding and windswept,
But it’s a road of jagged nails,
Bent and mismatched by travelers before you,
Karmic spiderwebs and societal roadblocks,

We walk it in agony,
Our boots split and feet skewered,
Each step forcing out more moans of pain,
Yet we march on,
With a pace set by our heartbeats,
Ashen-faced yet galvanized,
This serrated path cannot stop us though,
Nothing can stop us,

The end of this road is a cruel joke to some,
Our reward for our torment,
I fear there is naught but a red sun,
And a doting incinerator at the end,
Yet we march on,
Life trundles on,
Nails cannot break our spirits.

I’ve been traversing this rocky road for eons,
Strewn with the dirt of life choices,
And stones of detritus from those same choices,
Cane in gloved hand,
Occasionally with a travel compatriot,
Often alone,

Along the stones,

Many of these travellers walk hand-in-hand with me,
Sharing grand times and raised-hand toasts,
Becoming lovers and allies and mentors,
Others have kicked me in the shins,
Robbing me of every positive emotion I dare felt,
Leaving me lamenting by the side of the road,

Along the stones,

Each step taken is a year,
I may stumble at times,
Sprint at others,
But I am bound to this endless trail regardless,
Like a train tied to a track,
A slave to time unending,

Along the worn stones.

Time oversees us all,
Within its hourglass booth,
Like a tiger unable to maul,
With fangs of sand,

We cannot escape it,
We are leashed to it,
Our bodies wilt and rot,
As the sand falls unquestioned,

The hourglass stands tall,
Upon an iron podium,
Like a dictator,
With gravity a willing sycophant,

A true oligarch,
This Father Time,
Emotionless and unrelenting,
Fists of platinum wearing us down,

And as the sand falls,
We shall fall too,
Into gaping graves,
Such is the edict of time.

A broken soul,
Staring at these four walls,
I notice the ticking,
Incessant tapping,
Rattling my brain,
An unwanted roommate,

The clockwork prophet ever works,
It is the keeper of time after all,
Chronos incarnate,
A trickster of sorts,
Revealing the future,
Or perhaps revealing what we wish to see,

The clock reads the time,
But does it ever skip a few pages,
Does it know what’s coming?
But when questioned,
It responds only in ticks,
For its own amusement perhaps,

Time is fair so they say,
Like fate,
What happens will happen,
What will be will be,
Everyone follows the same chronology,
But we don’t all perceive it as such,

For some,
The time comes too soon,
For others,
It comes far too late,
The eleventh hour,
But one thing is certain,

The end will come regardless of the time,
The clockwork prophet on the desk told me so.