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I knew from the beginning of this saga
That crystal clusters are fair-weather lovers
And that the wrath of Father Time’s hand
Is more deadly to a soul than
Any assortment of Arms
Dreams decompose into sob stories
When their God is the same
Of that of their pretenses
Five Senses know not of thought, or
Feeling, or Compassion, yet I know
Fully of passion and I thought the
Feeling was reciprocated
So complicated situations these days
Who knew that the Bank of time that
We’ve invested so many hours of late
Would so quickly gain me the interest
That I have acquired
Compounding, like a fracture, continuously,
My Heart, and it’s with time,
Once again, that I fade away.
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