Pretty things I like
And my fleeting butterflies.
Time is on a holiday
on the beach.. ah peace..
a few birds.. here and there..
the tales slowly cease..
The Master of the Mastermind
Oh hello, Glory-head !
the chimes of time.. a bell.. a clock..
Beauty – airbrushed again..
“Do I know you? ” the words of Time..
to the maiden caged in sleep..
Unholy soul lingering about
blue hearts..to safely keep..
Pretty stones for the pretty lady
a gift for the shy smile
a knowing smell.. and mystery more..
everlasting dreams divine..
Battered.. shattered.. a twit in pain..
Pain.. in drops and stones
twirling down the mountainside
a broken mind.. and tattered dead bones
The sky in a slightly tawny shade
The gloaming gloating with glee
Beauty kept under wraps
in her dark world.. another long sleep..
Time.. O sweet nasty Time?
But Time is gone.. and somehow lost..
The raging waves.. all meaningless..
for Time is truly lost.