Father Time, Dear

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You have stalked me since the day of my birth;
You devour, belittle, beleaguer and stain;
Sometimes thrusting me past a place of great worth,
Often weighing me down, prolonging pain.


Opaque and invariable, worshipped and cursed,
As long as I live, you will hold me in thrall.
Though you heal all my wounds, you derive them first,
When I beg you to help me spring forward, you crawl.


You've robbed me of youth and paid me in augurs,
Deaf to repentance and blind to my altars,
You starve me or gorge me of silence and sleep.


And yet I have unmasked you by watching you creep,
Do thwart and contain you by counting my breath,
Will escape you when I meet Vain Death.


 

Created: Mar 05, 2014

Tags: metered, poetry

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