without time in mind civilization declines,

society grasps at desperate lifelines
but the noose of clock fingers wrap
like rope around pulses beating,
every heart beating out the rhythm of time running dry,
to the tick, tock
of the invisible clock.

Time stumbles forward haltingly,
second stretch to hours with jolts of awareness without cadence,
seconds of vision in a room of poor blind beggars pleading for change
but never accepting true advancement.

Humanity a forward march in chaotic disorder
phantomime charges run guns blazing into a
dark future clouded by pop culture,
the next album overshadows the next two years because
the thunderhead is invisible to the deniers of the lightning.

Electricity a blessing tossed like a blanket over shivering humanity, still
vulnerable to the environment, still
vulnerable to reality, still
vulnerable to the light before we went blind looking for a
future that is no longer there.

Mother Nature bides her time in silence,
exacting a personal vendetta against the silencers of many lambs, the wolves
raging against the dying of their fluorescent light outshining the sun
in dark corners of a new concrete reality
where change is invisible until technology again throws the past into perspective.
The only comment on past generations of mistakes
“How did they live without Internet?”

Mother Nature bides her time in silence,
letting the wind carry tears of rain in sweeping
whips upon the whims of her breaths
A holy flood of judgement written into religion in which one like man
one faulted and angry with the power of the storm
oversees our every move,
our every venture into the ocean which was written
flat in the minds of priests praying to corruption.

Time stretches,
pulling my feet forward in a march untouchable by gravity,
a journey my atoms will continue to the end of space,
a journey through the fourth dimension intangible,
A river flowing straight as an arrow into the future.

Religion captures ears, pulling them close with a promise of purpose,
flatly denying the truth at the heart of every
fossil fact buried under tons of rock
and undue faith.

The truth is much more chilling.
Cold bleeds silent into the heart of every movement.
Clouded mobility reaches vague into the very atoms of each body reacting
in the heart of the sun,
the heart of our planet,
the heart of a grandfather race pale in known finality.

Order falls quivering to the knees
of

Cha

o

s,
dissolving
with a whimper in

to the
cold night o

f a starless universe.