Time: Are you not the Curse !
Time, they say, you are the flavour
what dear life eloquent has in offer.
Tell them how you’re not the curse!
creeping beneath pestilence of desires
you come cajoling of youthful vigour
but leave in wails, a senile couture.
They say you heal all sore
fill up crevices, mend them all woes
pity or else would they dwell in morbid
quiver in stealth, of agony and hardship.
You palliate even the wooer scorn
heart of whose would otherwise bemoan,
will you not tell them of those you plague
conjuring echoes of memories bygone!
They say you were there, wandering free
when wilderness spurned to desert and hills unfurled in spree
antemundane to zion or perdition there is,
you were the one that was meant to be.
Kings and pawns of realms of men,
countless legions with might overwhelm
posed as menacing as dauntless ant
like aging wig atop the winter elm.
They say only the decaying and old
attain wisdom, scant men behold
for only the wisest at their end know, Life was the gift,
there isn’t just enough time, to unfold.
Time, they say, you are the flavour
what dear life eloquent has in offer.
Whilst soused in coyly soothe,
nothing adrift lies further from truth …
©️ Rainman 2020
