Shapes of Time, Hours of Space

I look at what could’ve been.

I look at what it actually is.

A calculated design,

An oiled machine that learns

With every time it fails.

Time moves its mighty wings

As space unfolds like waves on shore.

Can this be all by sheer chance?

Per chance there is a well thought plan.

Oh, Horror!

May your cold dark hand

Bare this wooden heart

Through embers, tinder and match.

My bravest shines

When you lay aside

No bang. No whimper

Only a steady, shivering blade

Sometimes it lingers, sometimes dwells

Sometimes it flickers, sometimes shakes

Hanging above. Held by a horse’s hair

Tick, tock

Thick, Tock

Thick Talk

Trick. Trap

Tin can

For this beggar’s plea

May flesh be worth a pound

I look at what could’ve been

I look at what it actually is

Falling grains of sand

Can also make a path.

(In silence we see a collage of memories)

See it back, see it forth.

Now, walk the time!