Me.
The Hourglass.
Monday, February 23, 2009
A vault of secrets - a place only we know. In here I see the markings of our past, our present, and the hazy image of our future. And in the corner, hiding behind the portraits of familiar faces - an hourglass made from the finest of wood.
The sands are flowing and the hourglass is almost spent - do I turn it and allow another hour to pass?
While I cannot clearly recall, I know that I've turned it alone all too many times. It is no wonder then that these arms no longer know their strength. Frail, with too many cuts and bruises to care for.
There will come a time when they will fail me. And when that day comes, do not speak my name in disdain. I am not to be blamed for it all.
Today, maybe just one more time. I'll turn the hourglass, and wait till the sands stop falling. Maybe the next time it's spent, I'll have you to turn it with me.
Given a certain level of thought byAdam Dewind at 5:20 PM