The Hourglass
Written: October 1st, 2026 for a contest sponsored by Joseph May
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Unjust will turn to dust never to trust.
We can't rust what is gold when it folds
into old, while the clock takes its shock
from the rock of hours that devour flowers.
I can't stay in the day as it sways,
then it strays through the years like the tears
of the spheres. Shadows creep while I sleep;
they keep what I breach, just beyond reach.
Watch the sand as it strands from my hand,
while the land of my past turns too fast,
and is cast into distance where resistence
loses balance as the produce grows profuse.
Recluse every star even , if it's too far
even bizarre they leave sears like old tears
in my ears. What I knew cannot accrue,
so I pursue for light in this peek tonight.
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