Trash

to sew eyes shut, and turn away from the face I see each day a temptation stronger than reason unyielding as the passing seasons my voice is tame, common refrain a quiet whimper, uttered in shame? yet if I form rhyme with which to speak does seeking the truth not set you free? twisting verse into line against the clock's cruel designs an upheaval with no end the inescapable tick of time's cold hands wisdom comes with age, they say knowing to long for better days but for a fleeting glimpse of yesterday there, you cannot stay uncountable traces of thought memories cursed and fraught waking in frozen sweats dreams of forgotten depth always forward, onward to the drumbeat of dread wisdom comes with age, they say knowing to long for better days but for a fleeting glimpse of yesterday there, you cannot stay my future foretold a desolate stone left to the cold forgotten by time left to the vines tell me, what is divine? we'll leave our traces, history of our races plastic wraps, and rotten snacks rusted bottle-caps, flavoured johnny-wraps an empire of trash, buried in earth a monument to our vanity a tribute to our insanity a statue of the chosen horde wisdom comes with age, they say