Time and decay are essentially related,
I have cupped my hand around my ear to here a name whispered on the wind,
This name could very well be my own, but as I am incapable of naming myself this knowledge eludes me,
Moment – moment – moment – moment,
Time, a ceaseless train,
I have stepped on Time’s trailing skirt and she stumbles forth,
Tortuous – torticollis,
Time is out of joint,
History is more cacophony than symphony,
More an autopsy than archeology,
More entomology than discovery,
But there is hope in the eschaton!
No comments:
Post a Comment