Poetry

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[An older poem I wrote a few years ago whilst contemplating the nature of time.]

I mend the wounds that I create,
as man and beast I devastate!
I drive the young into their graves,
for all on earth are but my slaves
I am the god of this dimension,
all bow to me without intention
I summon death and call on birth
for I am ruler of this earth,
and with my bloody hands I strike,
claiming young and old alike
pouring judgment upon my foes,
dealing many mortal woes,
I ravage nations, cities and empires,
hurling them to Hell’s dark fires,
slaying all; man and beast,
upon their flesh I madly feast

Yet I am bound by my own device,
so let my temp’ry power now suffice,
alas! For yet when I am full grown
I shall no longer ‘ccupy the throne
but of all my greatness, bereft, I’ll be
locked fore’er in misery.

Though now at last, my end is nigh,
all I’ve done shall me belie,
for I am one on perilous course,
alas I am not the only mighty force!
There is another Who’s Name is known
shall bring me down when His trump’t is blown
for what am I but Time?

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