It all came to a standstill, A day when time stood still, A beautiful world, fogged and grey, Grief was its own land, okay? But the sun arose the next day, And we woke up anyway, When the past was a distant land, Time stood still, not so grand........
a mist of milky gossamer moves in between my will and things to do the clear shapes of objects are growing soft and dull the moment's urgency yields to my ponderings of possible decisions abstract rigidity arrests the words things stay forever as they are
is it a sense of death that delicately touches on my neck and steals from me the comfort of continuous change?
life seems to walk away in long and measured stride the kitchen clock has never been so fast
it measures time from here up to the stars
it counts and blows the moments of my delicate eternity one by one into the past