A figment of imagination
crawling through
night
day
and evening.
Frisking through meadows
of stiff hands
and painted numbers,
this concept so lightly known as time,
has lived to contrive the clockwork
behind the functioning world.
It doesn't stand still; for it plans
escapes as swiftly as radio-waves.
Melting clocks tick away
at the hourglass of our fate.
Grain by grain...
time escapes the void we call life
and deceases us through the midst of anamnesis
and ideation.
It is all in our minds.
Mar 31, 2013
Mar 31, 2013 at 3:37 AM UTC
A figment of imagination
crawling through
night
day
and evening.
Frisking through meadows
of stiff hands
and painted numbers,
this concept so lightly known as time,
has lived to contrive the clockwork
behind the functioning world.
It doesn't stand still; for it plans
escapes as swiftly as radio-waves.
Melting clocks tick away
at the hourglass of our fate.
Grain by grain...
time escapes the void we call life
and deceases us through the midst of anamnesis
and ideation.
It is all in our minds.
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