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Apr 2017
Oh time, our defining measure,
How you precede history itself,

Oh time, your objectivity,
How you govern all current's of that gushing river of our lives,

Upstream to new horizons, downstream to the forgotten,
Our moments lie inescapable of your perpetual conscious,

Oh time, your rampant tests,
Your ability to flourish mere illusions of aspirations,
To build bridges, of solid foundation,
To establish homes, of kindly salvation,

Why must these dreams be a breath of reality all so brief,
To dismantle this world, leaving man only in grief,

Oh time, beneath the murky surface of that river I await,
Whatever is it you are to instil as my impending fate.
Stephen Rutledge
Written by
Stephen Rutledge  20/M/Australia
(20/M/Australia)   
764
   Amaranthine
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