Timely Death

Time is the beat of the heart

With an end and a start

How many beats are left

Before the next cleft

In the moment between time

The silent cliff between rhythm and rhyme

The song of the void

Most steer clear to avoid

If a heart would bear witness to the last grasp of a breath

Stopping still, playing with death

Long would be the second

Before the next beat beckoned

To master time

Weaving in prime

Unique and in of oneself

Like a handwritten novel, placed on the shelf

Whispering tales through long dead trees

Giving strength to weakened knees

Saving thyme with breath and salvia

Allowing water to flow through the branchia

Then place stands still

While water moves will

Casting the music of roses

In a moment’s poses

 Upon the pause, heart will rupture

The void will rule sound and structure

Mass decomposes and spirits away

To return in another place some day

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