Father Time

Throw forth your seed

with watchful eye

and wait.

Ruin me slowly.

Calculate each mark,

your cutting tools, sharp

edged, cruelly hewn

devices perfected

over your infinite

languid ages.

Set me aside.

Sweep nations asunder

like pitiful drowning ants

inside intricate

sprawling worlds.

Your scythe cradles

and sweeping

plucks me at the tender root.

fallen and wilted

with dreams

tossed and packed,

bundled for consumption,

left to soak like blood

into hungry earth.

You marching ever on

as though we are just

more fuel to burn

and fire and ruin

is the misbegotten reason

of our birth.

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

i like how you use Father Time here...the metaphor of a father who spits us out, creates us and then uses us and burns us...and we question why we are here?

why make us if you only want to break us.

[Kristina Moulaison]

thank you much!