hatred

Posted on | October 25, 2008 | Comments Off

“Every year is getting shorter, never seem to find the time
Plans that either come to naught or half a page of scribbled lines
Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way
The time is gone, the song is over, thought I’d something more to say”
:Pink Floyd (Time)

you sit on a bridge,head in your hands,
and watch the waters flow under,
murky,grayish green,with the rotten sludge of years,
and dream of what might have been,
woe over past sins and hurts you caused,
and lack of perspective in seasons past.

think about them,whom you held close,
clay idols all,embraced by the heart,
who never asked for anything,yet took all you could give,
and left your senses to reel,
your own,always there to support you,
except you never could ask for help,
and they would never know-of deaths and maimings,
blood soaking the soul,and being washed away by time-over and over again,
alone,alone,alone-licking your wounds,
think of what you got and what you lost.

they took your land,and built on it,
their towers,and palaces and highways of hope,
and in a corner of their magnificent palace,
a small cemetery for your dreams,

they built their temples on your houses,
as you sat and watched,impotent,
and while your gods disappeared,grounded to insignificance,
they worshiped their false gods,oblivious of your prayers,
or indifferent to them.

watch time,as it flows now,
murky,grayish green,with the rotten sludge of years,
feel its stench,and sense in it the dudgeon of lost dreams,
flown out of your hands,like that same slimy water,
and rue,time gone by;and your impotence,
spent over the years,in waves of profligacy…
and grieve,over ability come when time is past.

P.S. Partly inspired by Time,Childhood’s End and Your Possible Pasts (all Pink Floyd), and majorly by time.

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