Saturday, September 25, 2010

Trickling Past

The sand within the hourglass trickles, grain
By grain, and Time slips softly, wearily by,
And yet I hear majestic Wisdom cry
Out: tempus fugit! Time and time again
She's proven right that oft uttered refrain.
Time creeps silently on as, slowly, I
Slip into the past. He doth not wait - that sly
Devil moves, impossible to regain.

But that I would be able to resist
That power which draws me into futile thought!
'Tis not the past that I can alter, nay,
But the present! Allow me to desist
That sinister practice, which can help me naught,
And turn my mind toward the coming day.

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