*revolutions of the second hand
are innumerable to a watchful eye,
which is no comfort to this bruising
...shame
nor can heart's run far enough away
from pulsing, cancerous gangrene;
so off to the darkest mile it treads
...softly
sifts into the cooling of a fading day,
a gentle crushing blow fixes completely
these drowning, despondent smiles
...of yesterday
where wafting wavelets wail forlornly,
while whispering affections, once silent;
hearkening back to more innocent times
...found wanting*
Oct 27, 2016
Oct 27, 2016 at 9:04 PM UTC
*revolutions of the second hand
are innumerable to a watchful eye,
which is no comfort to this bruising
...shame
nor can heart's run far enough away
from pulsing, cancerous gangrene;
so off to the darkest mile it treads
...softly
sifts into the cooling of a fading day,
a gentle crushing blow fixes completely
these drowning, despondent smiles
...of yesterday
where wafting wavelets wail forlornly,
while whispering affections, once silent;
hearkening back to more innocent times
...found wanting*
