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Poem

An inverted delusion of the mind
Whether it is well or defined
An apocalypse of moments flash by
In our humble life's time.

Whether we use them sparingly
Or use them foolishly they are ours
Do we waddle away these gifts
Or do we treasure them as they pass?
It is all in how we convert the measurements.

Picking up what is given to despence
Them as we wish, peice by piece
Or all at one time, it is our choice to make
Our we bound by our destiny or by faith alone?

Do we have the choice or is it predesigned
Is it an inverted delusion of our mind
Whether it was well spent or defined
As an apocalypse of moments splash by.

Do we hoover just above the line
Waiting for that moment to drop
And then rush forward to the edge
Destiny waiting for us to plunge head on

Splattering  across the ocean of space
Into the never ending emptiness that awaits
Where time is irrelevant and hopeless
To the idea that time remains the same
 
An apocalypse of time speeds never
Ending forward ,grasping us by the hand
And spinning us into an everlasting 
Momentum of scurrying  emotions

The moment in which we were predestined 
To venture upon, whether by moments
or by well defined movements that happened
To invert our minds, whether we or defined.

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