Time is an indifferent jester;
it axiomatically parts
from the momentary wishes,
ignorantly stepping into tomorrow
'Till the nightingale's voice
no longer sing harmony
'Till the waterlily's petal
no longer flash as brisk
Only to be replaced by the new.
Time is a continuous cycle;
it coldly outdates the contemporary
meticulously mend a scar
yet inevitably ages your visage
As the last leaf falls,
dancing without restraint along the breeze
As the snow melts,
sacrificing itself for a new year's outset
Time has gone and never to be found.
The days are soundlessly slipping by;
the sands are nonchalantly running out;
day after day and week after week
a nonexistent pause in its pace
Uncountable thoughts raced as
I silently watched the familiar hue-
the flames of the birthday candles
bid farewell to memories of the past.
Where will my heart be attached tomorrow?
YOU ARE READING
dilettante wordsmith →「poetry」
Poetry❝ repressed emotions detonated -- those wings of rage soared Above , seeking callously for retaliation . ❞ ↪ a collection of my poetry. * current cover is a graphics collab between my homie and i. thanks eito ♡
