In the hands of Time, we stand before the screen,
Trapped in its relentless grip, oh how we've seen
The passing of days and the fading of dreams,
Moments slipping through our fingers, or so it seems.

Oh, Time! A fickle friend, a cruel thief in the night,
Stealing youth and stealing hope, with all its might,
Leaving wrinkles on our faces, shadows in our eyes,
Telling tales of forgotten dreams and silent cries.

It whispers in the breeze, a haunting melody,
Reminding us of promises broken, of what used to be,
But Time's heart is a riddle, a puzzle we can't solve,
And as the clock keeps ticking, we slowly dissolve.

It takes away our loved ones, leaving emptiness in its wake,
Leaving us with memories, fragile as a porcelain figurine,
And as the years go by, we desperately try to hold on,
But Time, oh Time, it slips away, forever gone.

Oh, how we wish to turn back the hands of Time's clock,
To rewrite our stories, mend the shattered locks,
But Time, it laughs at our longing, our futile desire,
Leaving us with nothing but regrets and a burning fire.

Yet, Time has a way of healing, of stitching up the wounds,
As we learn to let go, to make peace with what it looms,
For although it snatches away, it also brings anew,
Transforming pain into strength, reminding us what's true.

For in the darkest hour, when Time seems like a foe,
It teaches us the beauty of each moment, letting go,
It shows us that nothing is forever, that everything will pass,
Leaving traces of its essence, lingering, soft as grass.

So let us dance with Time, embrace its ebb and flow,
For we are bound by its spell, though we may never know,
Let us cherish every breath, every heartbeat, every tear,
For Time is but a vessel, holding all that we hold dear.

And when the final moment comes, when the clock winds down,
May we find solace in knowing that our love can be found,
In every tick, every tock, every passing day,
For Time, dear friend, is but a fleeting, precious display.

@deep_widin #deep_widin #deepz_talk #poembydeep #writco


© deep_widin