Time
A spark that has gone from the world.
The feeling that the war shall end tomorrow,
And that you are not on the winning side of it.
The world that you so neatly kept,
A garden of hope, and the right amounts of frustration
Are soon to wither beneath the mushroom clouds
Of your nearing enemy.
Time,
How I hated you through my lifetime,
I shall hate you in my death.
How you stole my riches,
Stole my youth,
Stole my children.
My memories, my fantasies.
How you stole my love,
My strength, my will.
You looked at me with that face,
And tainted me with sickening worry,
That you would just continue.
How you just kept going,
Though I pleaded you to stop.
And though my countrymen died about me,
You snickered and kept running.
Or how you glared at my grandmother’s
Wrinkled face, beset with troubled sleep,
And a grief-stricken brow,
As though she could not bear to see
The changing world before her.
But always you kept running.
And you ask me some God-awful favor,
To somehow call you loyal.
That at least you never stopped.
But God help me if I give in to such a ridiculous request.
You were never loyal to me,
But only to your own end,
Whatever end that may be.
And this, Time, is how I shall perish.
Overlooking my city,
Wishing for all you have taken.
Determined not to let go of these slipping feelings,
Resentfully falling to a steep and troubled sleep.
I will not rest until I can truly say I’ve seized you,
I’ve put you at my feet and into my control.
You will work as I have requested.
My frailty is no matter in this manner.
I will possess you.
I will master you,
Even if from below the packed and hardened ground.
