wasting water in my final resting place here before you knew it
it was too late to move you reached the end a long time ago
a ways back anyway
you eliminated the excuses but not the reasons why
the contours of failure remain carvings in a stone wall
shadows without relief the images cut deep
a vivid tableau etched with familiar characters
the movements of millennia project them like cinema
motion too vast for the human eye to apprehend
the tools change the hands grow less steady
start to finish the end product is always the same
a story with no ending
Poet13's Blog 
this reaches deep inside… compelling and urgent. well done.
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insofar as music can be said to be, you describe its shell.
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