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