Times Shifting Sands
In the middle of a hard driven pace
A thunderous rumbling
A ponderous grumbling
There ever subtly
Is a rare uttered mumbling
Where something stupendous is graced.
This is a place of extremes
Where fate replaces dreams.
Captured in captions beneath the plain.
Mired in the moors
Of tired inner horrors,
There is a supple
Higher remorse
For long lost lives and new aching pains
Where fear replaces desire
And years are faced with mire
Uncommon blunders abound
Sickly decisions,
with tricky precision,
splice twice, and thrice,
In equal division,
all asunder, the common ground.
What remains takes pains to perceive.
Too many things are hard to believe.
Slippery in it's inner meaning,
ever wavering,
never staying
still in any sense,
or savoring
the innocence of the inner being.
Some forgotten things
are worth remembering
Truth is stranger than everything!
Fantastic facts,
and fanatical acts,
are split between
erratic attacks,
and insurmountable suffering.
Some things are better
left in the ether.
Crumbling foundations fall!
With the quickest
swiftness,
even the thickest
bricks, shift
In to rubble, mortar and all!
No monument can withstand
the drifting tides of times shifting sands.
