Tragedy of Lost Time

It is hard to see past the tragedy of lost time When at once you realize its chains have rusted Away. Where moving on feels more like a crime Of passion. As if your heart cannot be trusted. Upon the mid summers day, where happiness you flaunt, My gaze remains frozen upon the evergreens Spanning miles; reaching heights myself they haunt and taunt. Time crunching beneath, tracking pathways unseen. Wherein there lies the problem I face within; The tragic comedy of soulful commodity. Where love lies and burns sick grins, like inner demons rush to sin. Pushing, pulling, shoving my mind to embrace my odd oddities. Time passes fast in a constant rhythm – my life fleeting, beating, sounding, and pounding. While my life slows down to the lingering moment, of heart and soul regrounding.