History’s Time
A poem
Jul 30, 2021
How the disease of time
will ride to every prevail.
It gives no hope of letting go,
just a promise of mankind’s lucky touch.
Leave, I tell it.
It does not but yet, smiles.
I shudder in fear of the evil it will awaken,
the evil that will grasp us all.
Leave, I repeat.
It does not but yet, smiles.
I cannot, it says.
For I live in time,
and in time,
I am in your vein.
You will perish,
but I will survive.
I have race time from the start;
I have only fallen behind.
But when I emerge, you will see:
history has and always will be mine.