The Hours
Ahh, life. Such a horror show attempting to cut it short.
Long after crossing the crepuscular
The sweetest colors of the change brilliant and deep
The hours of which darkness's swallow becomes sure
A simple look to the rearview reveals what we reap
--
For some a day of wonder and delight
Exploring their adventures and all new things
Resting down their heads at night
Dreaming of tomorrow and their new beginnings
--
So lucky are they, that it does not come
Alone, they are left for now
Such luck is not to be for some
Some live on the opposite side of the coin, and how
--
For the unlucky it does come with the nightfall
It's rhythmic sounds unearable to most
Their souls to be put through something dark and frightful
Facing off with the power of the one mightiest ghost
--
Haunted by its ever growing approach they are
Upon light they'll force on their masks and go on to feel the sun
The thing hunting them never away by very far
When darkness falls they find themselves again wondering if they're done
--
That feel of the coldness rests upon their shoulder so clear
An icy cold grip holding onto their souls, never letting go
Fight on and try they will, try ever so hard to push it to their rear
For not all will go fast, but they'll go they all know
--
Some are lucky to be ignorant of all things in the darkness of missing light
The sounds of lions roars turning to near silent whimper and nary a sigh
Even the strongest of souls is born of only so much fight
And it is the guarantee of man to pay taxes and to die
--
The rythmic sound of the clock grows weak
The pains of time have grown their powers
Despite all the fight it feels so bleak
Robbed by disease, you're cut short your limited hours
The end...?
Thanks for reading my poem. This came to me in the dead of night, a night filled with pain, as I laid alone and suffering. I'm past the 2/3 point of what was a three year prognosis when I found out I had cancer, still saying F that, but sometimes wondering. As the pains in my body remind me I had a very serious brush with cancer, on a night like this, this poem came to me.
About the Creator
Jason Morton
From fiction to reality there’s tons to share about this crazy life. From being a single father, an officer, and having had many insane adventures while I learned about the world, my imagination runs wild with ideas.
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