The unyielding passage of time,
As told through verse & rhyme.
I process events. I weld what is rent.
With gold ink I meld scraps to their prime.
The unalterable burden of truth,
The pen is a sword, forsooth!
I sift thru the past & mine wisdom amassed.
I’ve forsaken my haphazard youth.
The merciless reveals of age.
The bill has come due for sin’s wage.
No limit persuaded & all peace invaded.
I am gilding the walls of my cage.
The adamantine walls of my heart,
A map of its scars impart.
I divine what to say when forging my way.
The past forms the future we chart.
The leveling destiny of all.
The rise’s eventual fall.
Moneyed or skint, all paths end up spent.
Every journey wraps up in the pall.
L.B.Stowe 