image from mysteryinhistory.com
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Oh, God, through the hourglass I saw you, eternal~ not bearded on a throne, but grains themselves, falling endlessly into the lower chamber. You were the fracture between then and now, the quiet hiss of time escaping its glass prison. I reached to touch you, but my fingers met only the slow, indifferent trickle~ the dust of prophets and kings ground fine between them. You are the Shape the sand forgets as it pours.
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
