“Wicked” – “You are wicked.”
\nThree little words, the longest no more than 6 characters. Combined, the sum of all hope – dashed.<\/p>\n
“Time” – I have asked Chronos to raise his hand,
\nand still the tempest that is time matching on,
\nsweeping all and sundry before its unseen fury,
\nand leaving broken limbs and sorrowful hearts in its churning wake.<\/p>\n
“Wish” – I have begged Chronos to roll back time
\ntill just before anger wrapped its unreasoning fingers round my delicate brain,
\ncosting me what I had not lost because I did not own,
\nbut sought by words, deeds,
\nand a certain look in my eyes that I didn’t see
\nbut neither did you till I had wasted 2 months and lost it all.<\/p>\n
“Chronos” – But Chronos is the figment of fearful men’s imagination,
\nwho knowing not hat to do with the vagaries of nature,
\nascribed power to chimeric figureheads in order to still beating hearts near bursting point.<\/p>\n
“Pray” – So I turned to God and prayed,
\nasking for a miracle of gargantuan girt.
\n“Selfish request! Pharaoh’s bones long since dissolved to nutrients beneath Jordan’s waves! Does God still harden mortal men’s hearts or soften them because of prayers raised by earthly beings?” screamed the “devil”,
\nwhose name should be spelled in subscript letters to\u00a0dishonour his base nature, vile and to be reviled till hell freezes over.<\/p>\n
“Alas!” – he was right.
\nWould a mere mortal command God to put love in another’s heart?
\nWould God deign it fit to answer such a prayer were it said upon bended knees
\nrubbed raw by rough-edged stones
\ncoated in amber fluidly flowing carrying plasma to replenish the patched earth beneath the scorching Sun?<\/p>\n
“Monday” – just like any other day …
\nBut wait! A chance to think less those thoughts
\nthat weigh like leaden weights on burdened brain
\nand rob the eyes of peaceful sleep.
\nMonday. Tuesday. Wednesday. Thursday. Friday. Saturday. Sunday. Who cares.
\nNot the man who just lost the family’s food to the one-armed bandit down the road while seeking 3 cherries that unleashes the flood of unlimited income.
\nNot the fellow dying slowly on the bridge over the River Kwai.
\nNot the man you smile at.<\/p>\n
“Monday” – Just another dreary day in an endless sequence of days in weeks in months in years in wandering the featureless desert of hopelessness by lost souls seeking forgiveness and deliverance where none may be found. Monday.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
“Wicked” – “You are wicked.” Three little words, the longest no more than 6 characters. Combined, the sum of all hope – dashed. “Time” – I have asked Chronos to raise his hand, and still the tempest that is time … Continue reading