How long will my light shine?

How long will my light shine?

Oxygen feeds the flame and matures the wine;

Succumbs to the hands of that great thief: Time.


In gluttony, Time devours but is never full;

Knowing all expiration dates yet failing to tell –

Chronos there to witness our final breath expel


And swallow up the delicate minutes as children.


This desperation of unknowing creates anxiety;

A sense of urgency compounded by acrimony:

“Perhaps this hour, decade, or half-century!”


We wail, while wax drips harden on the floor.

Lamenting, crying o’er the days of yore.

Bargaining with fate not to be taken before . . .


But the Fates fail to listen.


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