There is never enough time to grasp what we must in time
For the swallows don’t stay long when wind is on the run
Do we catch the sun’s longest weapon whilst down and blue?
Do we wander aimlessly through the gates unknown?
For much to long there has been an order
Stronger than the great tides of time
Stiffer than the hounds of fate
But I bark out loud against the dead of the night
Fearless, naught, there is no sorrow
There is no lost language, sweeping through the night
Entranced in an unbridled emulation
Of all things that have passed before these eyes asleep
Time follows me slowly forth with it’s mythical whip
Slapping the stare out of my humor
Perhaps then I’ll grasp onto the unknown
As I sit here and twiddle my thumbs