SLAVES TO TIME

time
how gentle was Time back when
back when there were no summer rains
and new-found love was both innocent and wild
back when Time had yet to be wholly realized
had yet to aggrieve, to exist

before the epoch of open awakening
Time, a mock-ruin folly gracing a veiled
skyscape, emptiness reigned absolute
then came a purposeless craving species
inventors of Time, guardians of legends
bearing evolutions curse of awareness
myths in extremis, consumers of all crux
sharing roost beneath, above and beyond

immortality was theirs to keep, yet such bountiful breeders
corrupt greedy feeders they fashioned a clock counting
down the demise of flesh and mind, became slaves of Time
Time, that invisible thief of all that is precious

 

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41 thoughts on “SLAVES TO TIME

  1. Hi Mike Takes me back to the sixties in Wiltshire. It was a pleasure and fun to drive on the roads before traffic jams and motorways. Few cars on the roads then! Thank you for liking Marks!” Best Wishes. TheFoureyedPoet.

  2. Your poem feels like another tale of The Fall into Sin, that to be aware, to be gifted with awareness, is the greatest ruiner of purity and life. Once we know, we can’t un-know, and are therefore slaves to our own natures.

    Lovely work, Mike. Glad to have you back. 😉 xxxxxxx

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