Prisoner of a forgotten time
in which every fragments
is a different reality .
Chained within a clock
who has never smiled ,
each tick tock evoking
a possible future ...
I watch my visage in the
looking- glass of unborn hours ,
traveler of the uncreated ,
ever refashioning my mirages...
Time,you are a fleeting lie
woven from the loom of nothingness...
At every heart beat ,hands dissolve
the ink of errors and illusions ,
for the price paid in faded memories,
sold on the black market of paradoxes...
My tale is but a whisper etched
in the great ledger of departed echoes .
Conceived from the imperfect dance ,
information you will return .
Cog in the intelligent geometry .
Is this nothing more than a mechanical theater
where golden puppets act out their destinies
in the shimmering mist of a feverish dream .
illuminated by dying stars ?
The drama is cast .
spectral drifter chasing the phosphorescent
glow of my own silhouette through a fog
steeped in a scent of dementia...
Before disapearing from your accusing stare .
Timeless ambiguity ...