Hours

Spinning fingers fly
The canvas of unfurling time
Who’s artistic touch–
Bends the world, breaking
A sickness, run deep in the mind
Uncured by lies
Regarded yet despised
The shadow of her past still lingers
Progress stopped in hate
Hours, days dwelling
Incumbent of pain
A moment is passing slowly
Haste, lost its way
Pages, falling scrambled
Words crumbling
Memories burn in the din
Simple seconds go by
The chapter being done.

Promised a new sunrise
Saying goodbye to unforgiving night
Transition beckoning
A day, a lifetime of regret–
Pressing the iron of years
Futilely struggling
Passively prevailing
Another way is chosen
And on it goes

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