The Length and Breath of Time
Yes, you linger so succinct my fellow of graying hue;
Like a ember coal is you as you fumble for a cigarette;
Eyes burning down to the filter; the very best of your
Soul is unbound with time, but you lie unaware in longing and regret. How shall we entrain
you? We who seek your solace, your collar stayed conformity to watch it fade and falter.
You stand upon the altar of time with folly pinching your
Belongings – how dare the Jester diminish the gifts he gave you?
A home, a shell of leather on your feet, a small itching on the back of time that all is
filtered through sublime; breathe it in my friend. It is coming to an end.
There’s a furnace deep within you where all acts do
linger fueled bright.
You stoke it day and night, yet no fire lights the
Architecture of the soul’s encasement, for it is billeted elsewhere, beyond the realm your
secrets have devised.
This should come as no surprise,
You can quench the fire, and scatter through the ashes
But find no answers there,
Pull back that iron door,
Bite your tongue and curse the darkness
To light that flame once more…