The land it has ruined,
The lives it has disillusioned,
The world falls to its hands,
Without care or fault it marches on.
The drowning beat is known by all,
But nothing evades its timeless call,
It's face is that of a friend,
But all is affected and comes to an end.
It's simple hands swaddle the world,
Those same hands started every quarrel,
Relyed on daily without care,
It's breathe is harshe and unfair.
To those that walk within its constraints,
It's a power that's old and Quaint,
Try and make every moment count,
When it's over you'll cry and shout.
But without fear or fault,
TIME MARCHES ON.
YOU ARE READING
Poetic Love
PoetryThese are poems that I write when I feel an emotion I can't explain. They are not the best. But I do hope that you too can find the sense of emotion I do when you read these.
