Time is a horrible concept that pollutes us
With structure and order, causing a fuss
Wherever you go.
The earth is round you know,
Without the sun's orbit, our notion of time would not exist.
Tick tock, tick-tick-tick-tock,
Time never stops
But never starts either.
Our skin will wither
And we will grow old
And our bones will ache in the bitter cold.
Blistering wind blows through our hair
As we sit near a flickering flare
Of flame
Burning straight through our shame.
Changes come and changes go,
Expanding worlds that we didn't know
Existed within our realm
But it is time to take the helm
Of the ship and sail away.
Away, away and say your goodbyes today
To the past, to the pain, and to all things
That stunt your dreams.
BINABASA MO ANG
The Dying Poet's Dream
PoetryGo on an adventure with me through words, landscapes, and dreams. Sail beyond your landscapes and follow your own compass to the beat of your own drum. Follow me through the woods and adventure to the great beyond.
