the lost hour
A year seems long
but it has ended
and now we wait
for another year to add.
Month changes
with name and tags
different in splendor
and thus it surrenders.
Weeks changes swift
swifter than a month or a year
it ends tarnished
with million things undone.
An hour is all we have
forerunner of a stern motive
panicked asphyxia
draws the hour away.
Countless minute flee!
its just not enough,
but you’re never pleased
so you’ll crave another day.
An innocent second
like a blaze of luminosity
came and went undetected
but you’ll never have it again.
from my deviant and anthology collection
2 comments:
a wonderful poem....
v, nice.
sorif,
Clipping Path
Post a Comment