Wheels of time

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The wheels of time
of this emerald life
mounted on the memories
and dragged along
by our days of gore;
they are dragged
pushed and pulled
with scraped knees
and bloodied knuckles
we move a little bit more

You whimper
cry,
groan,
with blood-curdling scream
as these spokes
dig deeper into your spine;
and with the
tape stuck on its reels
you count the moments
lost in the ethereal time

Everything has to be in unison
every move
has to be in lockstep;
cause if you miss a beat
or it gets stuck
with a slightest of fold
you can lose
a lot more than you can forget

Those wheels of time are merciless
they spare no king,
no pauper;
those broken memories
leaves the ashen residue on you
fecund hands
if you try to hold them any longer

The tape spins,
I long for a sweet symphony
floating on the backs of a caliginous life;
but as the spokes move
the pain oozes
from my suppurating wounds
and I can only hear
the phantasmic white noise.

16 thoughts on “Wheels of time

  1. Time moves of its on accord, stops for no one, waits for no one and is completely indiscriminate. Loved this and the image – those old cassette tapes (I still have boxes of them) 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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