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Dusk Whispered, and The Planets Answered

CRASH

By The Imperious CawPublished 2 years ago 1 min read
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The years to come seem waste of breath

A waste of breath the years behind

In balance with this life, this death

The months to come are more in pace

In pace the more with seasons grace

The weeks flow by in anticipation, in excitement

Flow by the weak, against stone steps. In dread, in grief

Days are simpler units

Simpler days join together

Dawn break and twilight gloom

Forgiving, flexible, reapable and numbered

Hours cling, these burning things

We cling to hours

To plan tomorrows open days

And shutter todays lost dreams

The minutes creep quiet over lawns and towers

Creeping minute and tender over bowers

Lovers can stretch minutes into hours

But forgotten so quickly time devours

The Seconds push Time forward

The units of Musicians and poets

Beyond Time My World lies

Without Light Until

Saintly Impact Taught Me

To Love In Time

And Gave Eternity Meaning

We're Here Too Brief

And Away Far Far Forever Long

surreal poetry
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About the Creator

The Imperious Caw

Rock and Roll Death poet from NYC. African American Gothic Poet.

Focusing on poetry inspired by the street and/or Imagined realms where Death is far more approachable

Hunter College Graduate - English Literature

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