Monday, February 23, 2009


The thing with time is
it flies like a wounded bird
Haltingly at moments of pain
swiftly at moments of joy.

I know not what time has in store for me
what is good and what is bad
The sun sets on the horizon
and night flies by.

The test of time
is a harsh one.
The mightiest have fallen
the boldest have fled

If you take my word
even gods have feared its wrath
And man is all but dust.