The Passing

Each day fades, and the sun

rises up to meet tomorrow -

not hopeful, not teary,

but brazen and bright.

Hours move with the motion

of a thousand moments,

splintered and solidified

oddly across time.

Through all the haze and shadows,

under everyone's muddied waters,

beside the stones waiting to fall

Time stands, silent and unmoved.

Unpredictable, unpredicable,

He watches with no eyes,

and darkens every doorstep

with his shadow.

Are you ready to let him in,

to accept all he has to show you?

Or will your future acts

invoke the past in afterimage?

Watch carefully, and

you might just get it -

hold all the fires and ices within

and never look forever in the eye


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