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This Swift Moving Beast
by Amie GoldaTime never turns the way you want it to
Wild and free as an untamed beast it moves,
Devouring our lives with little ado.
For, eons stoach souls 'neath swift running hooves.
Trapped in Time's tight grip we are but pris'ners
To eternity and this mortal flesh.
The years bind our youth in hefty fetters;
Fickle minutes escape us 'fore they're fresh.
Yet what can we do? Transient beings
That we are. The clock's tics pay us no heed,
Though freedom we crave, to its whims we cling,
Hostaged by moments 'til on dust we feed.
Whether Time drags us or minutes fly far
Evanescent ghosts are all that we are. 02/09/2009
Posted on 01/18/2010
Copyright © 2025 Amie Golda
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Michael Smith on 01/18/10 at 09:53 PM A lovely Shakespearian sonnet, with a very mature theme. Very lovely. I guess time is what you make of it, eh?
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| Posted by V. Blake on 01/18/10 at 11:32 PM This is a reworking of an older poem of yours, right? Those last two lines are definitely very familiar. Regardless, I like what you've done with it, and though I've said it before, I will repeat: Your soul was born long before you were. |
| Posted by Therese Elaine on 01/19/10 at 05:04 AM I think this is my favourite line, "Though freedom we crave, to its whims we cling" -you have such a wonderful way of spinning out a piece like a delicate web, each word trapped perfectly as part of the pattern! |
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