Time
An old clock that will never chime,
song that was written without rhyme,
those words are silently spoken,
yet my dreams remain unbroken.
My thoughts and my feelings guide me,
as I shape things as they should be.
I wield my shield to save my mind,
and sword to conquer all I find.
I am filled with constant doubt,
that I find my destiny’s route,
before my precious time runs out.
Copyright © Jonathan Stafford | Year Posted 2015
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