Time Treatment

Washed-Up State

Time Treatment

Flowing as a determined breeze,
and straying us like a fallen leaf.
Or marching as a drifter in stupor,
while kicking us like a pebble in way.

I don’t like the way time treats us…
why does it always has to be its way…?
Everything is washed up now,
makes a lesser sense with each passing day.

Why is it so different now than we first met?
How come hope and innocence turned into dismay?
Promises you vested in me, I made to you…
How could we lose each other along the way?

Hours of waiting following hours of preparation,
Why all what remains is so raw now – no foreplay.
Was it my arrogance or was it your hue?
Stopping us from what we both needed to say.

Once used to stumble across a light in the night.
Now, I struggle to find it in what others call “a shining day”.
I wish, I may ask someone from future to guide me,
facing quite a tough time here to relocate my way.

I never believed in fate,
nor I ever trusted the free-will,
for me it was all a meaningless dice play.
Looking at the past I can’t figure why..
“I turned into a being that I didn’t like yesterday…”

– Dedicated to a delta of soul, lost innocence, time difference; unwanted evolution and spiritual distance.

Update: 10/14/2013:

Typewritten poem: "Time Treatment"

Typewritten Poem: Time Treatment

6 thoughts on “Time Treatment

  1. I seriously dont know how the last stanzas are blowing me off completely, this one is no exception
    I never believed in fate,
    nor I ever trusted the free-will,
    for me it was all a meaningless dice play.
    Looking at the past I can’t figure why..
    “I turned into a being that I didn’t like yesterday…”

    Loving it🙂

    • Thank you for discovering the seeds of the poem Vino.🙂
      I tell you a secret.. Most of the time it’s the very last stanza from which the poem sprouts in the mind. As in most assignments, artistic or otherwise, a good beginning is having the end in sight.🙂

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