Ryver's poems and pictures
THE ESSENCE OF TIME
I sit here looking at
the pictures in my mind,
Wondering where it goes
In the Essence of Time.
My life is an illusion
a tiny space in the mind,
of someone who looks
in the Essence of Time.
It slowly fades away,
the memory of it all,
Leaving us wondering
did it really happen at all?
Some of us grow old and die,
Repeating questions "Why?"
Is it really mine to say,
The Essence of Time falls away.
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