Time Seems Broken Poem by Rachel L. Moore

Time seems broken,
So Out of line.
Not like these words
Falling out of my mind.

No. Words are pure
Simple, easy, true.
They speak enough
Of a life gone askew.

Words draw a map
To show the way out
Of this dismal trap that
Has sprouted about.

The maze unwinds
Dark, secret horrors
Of past sins of a
Doomed, fated explorer.

Enter the savior!
Not in my script.
See, that is where
The plot has slipped.

There is no end
To this madness.
No contrasting
Words of Gladness.

All speak death.
Payment of debt.
Debt of transgression.
You cannot forget.

See it around you.
Your sin builds the
Demise of your hope
From the past to flee.

Toil is your maze
Of acts and words
There is no escape.
Naught even by swords.

Toil. Toil. Toil. Toil.
Suffer your fate.
The paths you choose
Your life create.

No. You cannot leave.
But while you are here.
Suffer as you please.
Cry your own tear,

But endure you shall
That is how to pay:
Live to suffer
Day and Day.

Night brings no respite
Only shields the sight
-mercy- Of burning soul
With lack of her light.

Time seems broken,
So out of line.
Flowing like words
Into a bottomless mine.