Time so fleetingly chastises the womb
Wherein all life's illusions swoon.
Embezzled like spring's petaled earthen love
The art form's swallowed once famine's begun.
 
Extruded through shapes devoid of angles
No more will the process be found to dangle
Above heads of ravenous vultures. Now
The swine submits before the sow.
 
Who now does this frame become,
when all the insides and colors run?
How did once this child breathe, 
Before smooth skin had turned to leaves?
 
In all the time it took to capture
The memories here, and there after
Sunrise form and Sunset break,
Years elongate by Eternity’s wake.