Seconds sire seasons, life by stroll or sprint fades.
In search of higher reasons, none are ignorant of the null totality of yesteryear.
Time is neither favour nor fear; for Oak roots expand their domain, just as vast canopies usurp heaven’s terrain; a babe’s bones are made strong, even more so as toddlers play, yet still shatter, to dust decay, by the passage of Time’s decades.
Live this life, for better or worse; surmount the strife, and derive blessing from curse.
A year ceased to the known, crystal to each other selves of their own, clear as day, but the day's long agone. Her voice still etched in his ears, and as it appears, it sure won't be gone for years. Years to come, years to go, will there be another to the known? each day passes in this question's wake, another day of talking and giggling over something his mama baked? will there be yet another night skinny dipping down the lake?
They say time heals all wounds Honestly that is ******* Sometimes it doesn't matter what you do Pain has dug too deep of a pit There are instances where you lack the strength Or can't find a foothold to climb The distance up is just too great of a length And then what good is time? Some cuts never quit bleeding They just slowly run dry your veins Every day the sting keeps on repeating Years pass yet the hurting remains the same
Maybe not everyone but some of us have a harder time mending. Me being one of those.
After Ten Thousand Years, what will remain; after the seas and sands have reclaimed L.A.?
When the continents don't look the same; shuffled around like dominoes, as God prepares to play another game.
Will the stars our audience stay, though we prioritise these silent spectators above our planetary play?
Then there shall come a day, when no taught tongue these words can say; lest as maxims to complement aristocratic displays. When this poem's rhythm and reason, no researcher can attain.
The Gate Wall has been long erode, rendered flat and smooth; a mat laid out upon the floor. Our precious salads' descendants, both physique and favour now wholly unknown; after Ten Thousand Years Nature's nurture will be shown.
After Ten Thousand Years, humanity will remain, and with their mortal expressions; the savagery of ten eons, nay eternity, shall be tamed.