A Letter To Time

You taste sweet and smooth as the waters of a stream,
Quenching my thirst, yet you’re ever-fleeting,
Ever-flowing, never-stopping, never-slowing, craving to drown me it would seem.
I’ve tried with all endeavor, to force against your current, but there is no escape, no chance of defeating.

You can not be clutched nor grasped, you flow right through my fingers,
As you carry me through woodlands which briskly you sweep,
Not permitting me to explore, forests deep I long to linger,
No matter how much I plead, you disregard ever weep.

I recall when I first drank from your stream, which once appeared so still,
Where fish swam and lilies primed to bloom, hopeful of their future,
But now that I have fallen in, you hurry, as if you yearn to kill,
The flora which once flourished here, you neglect to nurture.

I’ve tried to grasp your bed, but my arms have grown too weak,
I tremble as I am frigid, too frozen to swim,
One day I’ll reach your falls and plummet from your peak,
My bones will break and batter, and torn will be my limbs,
Only then will I escape your ruthless rush and finally be still, when my lights go eternally dim.

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