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They say the one you think of last before sleep,
Is the one you care for the most— the one you wish to hold, admire, love…

The two of us…beings of bravery,
Had labored all the night, 
In harmonies livid, longing and bright…
In music so construed in golden blues…
A masterful melancholy in strange, light-stricken hues
He boldly slept, in heavy breath
As I dozed into the deafness of the demons’ wrath

I awoke, unaware of the time at hand, 
As he lay there close beside me, cradled in a beat…
I sensed morning’s marvel, thought the darkness crept
Leaving me in a sinking feeling as our Prince vainly slept

And there, with the drumming of his pulse, 
I began my morning song of Time,

“Oh, how alive she dares to smile,
In the crisp cradles of first thought
Time, with surging love for the dancing dial,
Melts our sleeper from the wars he fought

I tame her humbly in darkness doomed,
For I know the Lord shuns worry of loss
Unlimited life, craftily bloomed,
I dare paths to narrow, and I dare him to cross

Oh, how in sleep he refuses these dreams,
Of Time’s immense mercy and strength
How his eyes rest, in nightmarish filth it seems,
Tossing in pride, and I in faith

He lifts Time’s feathered mess
In an embrace he calls his own consolation
In his deranged, dreadful wilderness,
She waits in ardent resurrection…”

He began to groan in his sleep, 
Tossing and turning… 
His lids lifted, though his eyes were trapped
In a dream so unnerving and unwavering 
I could do nothing but sing again…

“Wake up in the comfort of company
As she gathers the feathers you lift,
I will see too that she is smiling
In the morning mist of bliss
Let the veils of night terror arise
So I may see the life in your eyes 
As the lizard on the rock bathes in warmth,
I suffer with you, saturating cold
Time offers space between, 
As the trees in winter soon return to green…”

He was awake, though grimacing 
Angered by my gentle push
Pissed that I sat there before him
No longer trapped in his soot…

“Time, time, time… 
You’ve bored me in your rhyme, rhyme, rhyme-
Witness wretched reality, sweetheart divine-
Then we can talk about the slut you call Time!

Bitching and raving how she has bludgeoned all these men, 
With the sweep of her arms, she crushes all condemned
She mocks me now, after screwing me naughty
Her feathers scattered across my body
I curse every morning I see her face
I love how she beats me, and then demands embrace
I hate her, woman, as I hate you
I lift her to throw her down,
As the cockcrows coo…

I am in Time, over Time, beyond Time
Cross in her spirit—frail in her rhyme
If your Lord has taken anxiety from your heart,
Have him take your innocence—now that is her art!”

He laughed, cackling loudly,
And the demons chiseled,
The soot on the ground grew hot and sizzled

My lips moistened with tears…
“I thought about how strangely you slept,
Even in your bitterness for dwindling Time…
In our last notes before drifting, 
I thought of you,
And all the days we have left
I want you to know my light is kind,
And we can all learn in the rhythm of Time
She is very sensitive, 
She weeps at every loss, 
Though secretly, though in day she boldly stands
At night she lets down her hair and grieves demands
For not everyone can she save,
Truth it be, she has saved no one
But has inspired men to the end…
No one knows Time better than God
And yes, you too must know her well, 
She labors as we sleep
Though she would be hesitant to tell…
She destroys…though inward she heals
She sees potential, though leaves the action
To the one who truly feels…”

“Stop singing in riddles and nonsense…” He sputtered
“If sleep is so important to you, 
Why do you force me awake?”

He sat up, quaking, his anger loud
I shuttered in his presence, looking down

“Just… sing with me…..”

And we sang…

“She is cruel, 
She is patient,
Living in darkness and in light, 
I rest her in my trust,
And I in my ceaseless bite
I lull her,
I seduce her,
She calls me, 
I answer:
Time, do not forsake me now…
Let our thoughts nestle in each other’s company
With the clocks that capture us…”

At the tipping of Death’s dark chimes,
The Devil’s mouth salivated in restful rage
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