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Description
grains of sand shift within an hourglass,
each hurtling downward into oblivion.
how many years spent in darkness
with how many more left to come?
it seems as though it was yesterday
when the tick of the clock meant something
more than an echo within a hollow room
filled with nothing more than shadows.

the stalwart guardians of time measurement
in form of both clock and calendar
hanging nooses around the necks of those
enslaved to their torturous demands.
and yet, is eternity much better?
immeasurable days with irrelevant meanings
bearing more than enough time to know
time can be more than enough to bear.

think of all the lives lived within centuries
and all of the exploits that transpire,
but think of the moments spent pining
for that which we cannot have;
or the moments spent mourning
for that which has passed away.
time is a cruel mistress, demanding more than
one's presence upon this mortal coil.

and yet, there are those things which make
the passage of time easier to weather.
having seen more than enough to taste
more than enough; yet the immortal soul
finds comfort within this singular fact.
despite the cold seasons and solitary nights,
he has friends who make this long journey
less fraught with frustration and worry.

you have walked alongside the embittered soul
and given the melancholy reason to smile.
you have provoked laughter from the silent mouth
of one muted by decades of sadness.
and the poetic clouds often part with the sun
and the bitter winds often take gentler tones
because the poet can always find solace
with those he now knows through his art.

Description
grains of sand shift within an hourglass,
each hurtling downward into oblivion.
how many years spent in darkness
with how many more left to come?
it seems as though it was yesterday
when the tick of the clock meant something
more than an echo within a hollow room
filled with nothing more than shadows.

the stalwart guardians of time measurement
in form of both clock and calendar
hanging nooses around the necks of those
enslaved to their torturous demands.
and yet, is eternity much better?
immeasurable days with irrelevant meanings
bearing more than enough time to know
time can be more than enough to bear.

think of all the lives lived within centuries
and all of the exploits that transpire,
but think of the moments spent pining
for that which we cannot have;
or the moments spent mourning
for that which has passed away.
time is a cruel mistress, demanding more than
one's presence upon this mortal coil.

and yet, there are those things which make
the passage of time easier to weather.
having seen more than enough to taste
more than enough; yet the immortal soul
finds comfort within this singular fact.
despite the cold seasons and solitary nights,
he has friends who make this long journey
less fraught with frustration and worry.

you have walked alongside the embittered soul
and given the melancholy reason to smile.
you have provoked laughter from the silent mouth
of one muted by decades of sadness.
and the poetic clouds often part with the sun
and the bitter winds often take gentler tones
because the poet can always find solace
with those he now knows through his art.