And Nothing Moves But Time

Lost in thoughts, all alone

Great knots are formed in heartless places, while skies blister at the seams

The haunted ground bereft of those lingering things

The soft touch of the blue, shadows any spark or warmth

And guiding life pushes us north

A rumble both tender and incessant gnaws at the perfect stillness

And pain best left forgotten remains in the illness

Blinking signs of what could never be

And so it folds under the world decree

Float in the sound and color yet never know why

And nothing will ever move but time

Author's Note

Have at ye.

Reviews

[emmajoygreen]

Thoughts are both help and bewilderment. Make one wonder, consider - but being alone is an offering the unknown presents as you add,

'And so it folds under the world decree
Float in the sound and color yet never know why
And nothing will ever move but time'

If you accept the shadow of both time - and thought. Perhaps