Devil Time
Time is -
the healer and stealer of all things.
You heal my wounds yet leave the scar
as a remembrance
lest I forget
from whence you came
You took the truth of a promise
and made it a victim of convolution,
sucked into the vortex
of your privilege to shift
the verity of a promise as it stood.
Then.
Blurred images, softened corners
of spiky slashes, bleeding lashes
buffered now by your passage
The anguish and purity of youth rejoices
while you ravage the heart
yet leave undefiled the flawless skin
--- clarity of tempered sight
Cannot the body match the glory of the mind
in its growth and empathy for what is learned?
Are withered limb and furrowed brow the price for the age of reason?
A fair exchange you say
for you need not beauty nor youth to meet the end of days
Devil time, what good are you?
For I am not yet finished with this horror of a life
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