Tributaries of time

                          Time. A river in my hands

                            like a pile of sand

                            begins to slip away 

                            Faster, come what may

                                 It looks not back

                        and i'm stuck in the moment

                               my arms grow slack

                               at my predicament

                               i hold a crossbow

                                  but i see regret

                         i aim it at your black bestow

                           but i see distress

                               I finally decide

                     at the road that splits ways

The arrow pierces his side         I drop the death-end

and a last look of dismay            And realize the hope i lend

Like you he bled to pieces,         My kindess, called him to repent           

though yours was a heart            A deed well i spent  

his was a corpse, in the recess   He ran off, looking back

was a hole i tore apart                 I gave him a smile, though black

My victory stood lifeless              The demon who was your end

dank like his abyss                       Roams out there, a free bird

strangely sapped of happiness    He returned down the bend

i knew something was amiss        The king, demon with his herd

His charioteer was defence,        A painted crow is still black

mine was revenge                       As the man i had given life  

ultimately, we still bowled             Returned to pay me back

down helpless souls                     Though black, it was a smile

Was i any more right?                 I waited for the inevitable

we both were swans                    Cursing the cruel world as i set

he black, i white                           I knew i had saved a devil  

We still slew pawns                     He couldn't bear the deadly debt  

I grew hollow day by day           The hungry men surrounded me            

though i hadn't been shot           mocking and jeering at my helplessness

'What is left?' I would say         He felt me, the same way he had been  

Nothing, i had thought               I had felt glimmered hope, i confess 

I drew a dagger and stepped   They drew arrows, many except

out of me, into my dreams        A mock to my angelic deeds

                            Time. A river with depth

                            Drowned me in its own seams 

                           As i die i grab the grains

                           Sands of time sweep me above 

                           I remember the fork in the lane

                           Both ways, fate got me somehow