Now Gone

Everything is a time, 
Not a place.
The same sunset will never be seen
Again.

Everything is a time,
Not a person.
The identical smile will not reappear,
Ever.

Hasten we who failed to plan
The smallest appointment in the future,
Left to pine for the sullen sigh
Of completion
Of the smallest of things.

Everything is a memory, 
Not a prophecy.
There is no knowing of things unknown
At all.

Everything is tyrannical, 
Not a miracle.
Though dive we must in the end,
Deep.

For those who would foretell tomorrow, 
I only wish a restful sleep,
For the red of morning may tell a tale
Of sorrow;
Of blood.

Everything is a time, 
Not a place.
For time speaks only of what was,
Now gone...
Now gone.


Copyright 2012 by Andrew T. Durham