Please...sway away. A majesty aged
under the thunders of tragedies blame.
Wide eyes sustain blunderless paces
left to right, then the shutterless cave in.
Eye lids link together to kiss in a wink's
tether... Letters to the mind find the ink
to edit. Gentle hymns settle just then sing
before, cut short by a pendulums swing.
The wrecking ball falls, its lust dissecting
the wings of all freely seen bisecting
the hours by excepting. Flowers now
wither in there prime, towers down...
The hourglass has now bowed over.
Over and over the past rounds closer.
The last long sands stand to form God;
as his fists twist and become the world's clock.