Garden Shadows
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Time bears signs to be indicating something sinister.
Hence, the world sustains, as usual, oblivious finisher.
An epoch passed; cannot heave it from the dead.
Clocks implore us to stop, but time spurns us instead.
We squander our youth, oblivious to times streaming.
It walks on with ample reason and expanded despising.
We set our rare sights on a spare mountain to challenge.
Thus over time, what was once lucid, swivels scavenge.
Time is the fruit of our ultimate sin in the Garden of Eden.
We were made to be rightfully everlasting and undying fun.
Now comes the affliction that willingly made us heartless.
Limit our divine destiny and assure us, in nothingness.
Written: November 21, 2021
Copyright © Sotto Poet | Year Posted 2021
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