Mortal Metronome
Be-beating in my bosom like
a time bomb waiting to explode
with crimson coated copper-veins
and no deactivation code.
Fl-fleeting from my carnal coat,
the life I was bestowed at birth;
with every passing second it
diminishes in earthly worth.
Sl-sleeping unaware of this,
the fact that every breath I take
is gravitating me towards
a most inevitable fate.
Dr-dreaming of a future where
my mind's desires blossom true,
unsure if I will have the strength
to carve that path and see it through.
Wa-waking from a hardy sleep,
I leap from bed into the hall:
eight hours I had slept that night,
eight hours toward my casket-call.
Sh-shining happily outside,
the sun grants me another day
to walk amongst the still-alive,
at least until I pass away.
Tu-turning are the hands of time,
a minute grows into an hour;
each passing day I wither like
the petals of a dying flower.
Ti-ticking all my life away,
a subtle process we all share;
although, I find it comforting
that such a fate is strictly fair.
Copyright © Michael Perriatt | Year Posted 2009
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