Omnis in hic sum...*

Writers write to understand. Axiom.
But time worries ever onward.
Alchemists in a dungeon. Thinking magick.
Realistically demanding the impossible.
Trying to tell what must not be told.
Feeling things not understood.
First, last, in between, without end.
Things intuited, not comprehended.
Spectacular. Ordinary. Ecstatic. Troubled.
Listening to humanity’s sad, silent music.
Struggling to be worthy of themselves.
Practicing successive language experiments;
Cast in the dazzling fluidity of words.
Blowing life into this quintessence of dust.
Forever in a frenzied rush, for:
  Envious time doth ever slide.
  This single day is what they own.
  Tomorrow they may be denied.