Sonnet of Time

July 12, 2016
Custom User Avatar
More by this author

Ev’rywhere its soldiers walk endless lines,

Marching forward never once looking back.

Its troops guard the breath of a newborn child,

Its hands circle around, then they attack…

It seems to speed with ev’ry passing day,

It seems to taunt the sorrows that I grieve;

I beg shamelessly as it comes my way

And spend the stolen light with raging need.

I spread my fingers out to grasp for more,

While precious droplets slip through gaps between -

Too much is lost; too much I can’t restore,

Too less is caught; the minutes now flow free…

Too late to sing the words I’ve never sung,

Too fast the circling hands of time have run.

Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

Site Feedback