The Prospect

Having what’s left

Of time, bereft

Of time, incomplete

Reminiscent of defeat

With music and wine

Would I decline

Transparent eyes

Seeing all the skies

And more, beyond

The infinite, a bond

Twix reality and god

Giving miracles the nod

Or might I still repose

As though were one who knows

The secret of tomorrow

That comes is nought, or sorrow

So, as clocks do tick

And limpets stick

Inevitable is the dark

Then make thee thus an ark

Securing all from being

For futures’ interest seeing

And rest a while, or sleep

The prospect is so deep

©HeyHey 2014