The Clinch of Time

Hypnotising time, surfacing the dust of the past,

The ruled out compass stretches its agony

Holding on to the tide of bereaved smile and

Circling the white page to sketch on a new mile

To cover the least and to keep in hold of time the remaining

Concealment of the hazardous puppet who danced to rupture tunes

And lay above all, the new sketch of a forwarding life

To be painted green on the fresh leaflet of the only surviving white page.

Cremating wild imaginations and clinging to a hope of no hope,

The sordid landscape whiten in snow, palely rest on for the next summer,

But, the dark passage fails to wear off and grin on with a win of sin,

A few more left and the least is fished;

With the dawn of the first new word on the last left page

There’s though a finery to be clasped on to

As the end of time will bring the rebirth of a solo

Whose plantation will begin a new chapter and create a new history of ‘Humanity’.

To pluck and eat is earning, to wait for a fall and eat is loss

And those sinking in the greatest fall fail to see the rise of ‘Humanity’.