Time is my victim:
With zeal I pursue it when I find it
Unmoving, defenceless, occupying space
Between the things I have to do.

The paths to the places
Where I mercilessly kill it are
Well trodden, feeling the beat of
My heavy feet as I carry it,
Bound and gagged, to
Its final destination.

With means and opportunity,
All I lack is motive. It is
A crime devoid of passion,
Unpremeditated, but it is perfect
Nonetheless: I leave no evidence,
And I am seen by no one.

In every case, the only real victim is
Myself, and I do not intend
To confess, or to change my ways:
This is a crime that is also
A life sentence, one I am fated
To commit and to serve
For the rest of my days.

06/07/2024

Posted on 08/04/2024
Copyright © 2024 Richard Vince