The hourglass crushing the minutes;
and subtracting the hours.
Neutralizing the seconds.
Day turns to night, in this blight;
and there is surely no way out.
The soul is in a box, unable to escape; there is no moving forward, and yet there is no bus stop to wait.
In this wake, the mind is like glass; shattering against the pavement.
The way mankind accepts their lot in life, is like mutual enslavement.
The body turns to glass, and shatters away; grinding under the pressure.
Young men dead, die in vain in every way; in every single ounce of measure.
This way and that way, goes the swinging pendulum. The tossing of the hands in all their grandure.
Grandfather of time, time slips away.
Existing and not existing in this shapeshifting everglade.
No comments:
Post a Comment