Time Passes in Sheaves

Time passes in sheaves,
while blood grows older and colder;
Addiction steals the soul
piece by piece in unnatural melody;
dead cells burn effigies of living dreams.

Although my heart is warm and kind,
it is hard as a stone;
tumbling deeper under waves of memory.
A life full of regrets,
yet I would never change the past.

Fade, fade away behind the curtains.
Dim, dim the lights with forgotten song.


[22:59|21.1.013] ©c.thomas.carter