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O Time

Today I present the second of my poems dedicated to the abstract. 


Both time and beauty are in the eye of the beholderO Time

What do you have in store for me, O Muse?
I am so afeared that you hold nothing.
If time holds nought, life and love are empty
And to an end I’m endlessly running.

And if the clock’s hands offer only want,
Despair, discord and denial for me,
To what end was I born and then shall die?
For life is to love and to love is to be.

If eyes stare upwards, then feet may fall.
And if hearts sink downwards, their minds will fail.
Neither can hearts look up and eyes look down,
For his own eyes and heart are my own’s dale.

O Time, you tax both man’s wits and his strength
And e’en the love of his heart you besiege
And your hands pull him towards death’s dark face -
Who is love’s friendly foe and your dark liege.

Now ‘neath the cold winter’s sun I wander,
My heart and my resolve being pulled asunder,
Shall I ne’er love’s tow’ring pinnacle climb?
Will you prey on my joy always, O Time?

                                                To Knowledge

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