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.

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