Snakeskin umbrella guards a king from the shower as hailstones sail as if fired from a tower. Bespoke time bandit guides an eye to the hour. Moments plucked precisely like seasons of a flower. As the clocks tick seconds off the lives of a coward, the worried watch quiet as the minute grows sour. A samurai arrives to strike the iron: he was the wise scion on his way to claim the stars of Orion.
A coward dies a thousand deaths. Strike while the irons hot.
If there was a time traveler whose job was to alter the continuum in order for dreams to come true, this is his mission statement.
Written at midnight in honor of national poetry month.