Time ticks slow with its pointed speed,
cut it and the moments they will bleed,
drip, stain, pool for a paused view.
Forward movement still pushes through.
One and the other have the same meaning,
both death and life bring the dreaming.
Open your closed thoughts to a new view,
and at the end let time push you through.
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Author:
Maplespal (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: September 12th, 2026 09:38
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 12
Offline)
Comments1
Give it time they say. Indeed tis true and this poem seems to speak to that. Well done
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