Time moves forward, without stopping
And fastened on her shoulders, bind our existence.
Aged and tired slowly we saunter her
Most are left behind, diminishing in the distance.
Weary, withered, and forgotten
We try to helplessly hinder our steps
But the cruel bitch, the time
Will not rest into one place.
...And we follow... without knowing...
Memories shatter into thousand pieces
While life takes different forms
Cheating, hate, lies and all the vices.
The witch time sucks up our dreams,
Scars our hopes, smothers our yearnings.
Ruthlessly she chops our hearts
Lets our loves mercilessly burning.
She discards us one by one.
Rips up our souls, she steals our lives.
Time shoves us in the abyss of death
She easies her burden, and lets out a relieved sigh...
Good poem and original look at ageing...you know, ageing is a battle I'm retired extremely fit its a fight against wearing out My wife and I do Ballroom dancing. yoga eat healthy and believe me Besa it is wonderful to be like that in retirement after working hard it makes sense, thats my Requiem! regards
Very powerful imagery and very creative use thereof! :) I like it a lot.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
time, a master-crafter... time is like a rubber-band...stretch it and leave, it hits us hard!