Picture courtesy: meshawnsenior.wordpress.com
We dance across
Continents and time
Death and time,
The love story of humankind
A tale told
Since the beginning of man
The death of time
The death of man
On tiptoes
I dance to the sounds of my time
I am afraid of awakening
Ghosts of yesterday’s plans
Waylaid on
Highways that used to come here
Stillborn schemes,
Pipedreams with no pipes to dream
As days and months
Have intercourse
Several years are born
Between erasers, pencils and pens.
Out of time, I pass on
Between tick-tock and chimes
Greatness has been aborted
It was not carried to term
Mortality haunts me
Humanity mocks me
Death sits and laughs
Gleefully awaits the end of time
My time is near
Greyed out, I’m all out of years
I bury my life
Stillborn and expired
Old and weak
I fall asleep on my silver hair
As the sun and moon embrace
Slowly, I walk into the light
A funeral party of one
and so many tears
I shed tears
My tears are in tears
The hall is packed
My tears came with tears
Time the victor
Time the villain
Me,
The victim of my time.
Stories untold
Undreamt dreams
All too soon
It is the end of time.
