For time is dwindled like a bow,
Tied by steady hands,
It ticks in shade of black shadows,
Where clocks of history stand.
Echoed is the ocean vast,
With salted waters deep.
Float aside the stormy cast,
Of mother natures keep.
It withers or does not exist,
Nor leaves a pleasant stain.
Yet ticks by flickers of the wrist,
Found wanting and so vain.
Come to cease the enemy, of men whom ageless are,
But emptied by its membership, and all the twinkling stars.
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Comments4
good write, enjoyed
I can't say enough how much I love the language in this, the way it flows is just so pleasant to read.
'.. ticks by flickers of the wrist'
Loved it ♥️
Wow thi sdeserves a title
Wow this deserves a title
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