A Looking Glass
January 28, 2014
Looking into the Past,
Like a Record Player on repeat,
There’s no thing destined to last,
Endless echoes of failure and defeat.
I can’t help but wonder-
Where the bounty of time went,
Years of triumph were buried under
The idleness of time spent.
Now a beacon of erosion I stand,
A timeless folly of waste,
Indeed it’s difficult to demand,
From one who does not haste.
No future can foretell,
Where my path will end,
I crawled my way through the Hell
Of Nothing, and now I must Ascend.
By Rob Kempton