Time in Vain

Nothing is more conceited then Time.
       It’s condescending tone
               Just tick,
                        tick,
                        ticking away;
       Mocking our lives.

Hands reaching out,
Strangling our thoughts,
Suffocating us from the present
              Where noon is to midnight
              As future is to past—
       So hurried to elapse.

Infinite revolutions to seize
Through Time;
                 Time’s ego,
                 Time’s illusion,
                 Time’s wit.

Always too late to catch our breath; 
                  Choked out of our senses.
                       Dizzied by the motion.
            Blinded through our notions
                                           That define
                                             The vanity of Time.

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About Robyn

"If you haven't known insanity, you haven't lived."
This entry was posted in Philosophy 3308 001, Recovery (USA) and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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