Time's Tale

March 15, 2012
I guess these days

Are meant to be

Just a haze;

Combinations of hallucinations,

You're to never stop to think.

But the flowers fade,

and the shadows deepen.

It's an ongoing tale

Spun by masters of the trade;

A silent web of glistening lies,

Courageous or shy,

Entrapped we die.

Too late my loves

When time has flown

On gossamer wings to makeshift hollows in the sands of space.

Whisper softly,

Smile often,

Let time slip slowly,


Through the gnarled hands of your past

And the open ones of your fate.


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