Arrows of Word: Projectiles In Time
My arrows travel deep into the night,
piercing frescoes of thought at dawn
Travel further, they shall, these shattered shards,
to intone lethargic delirium at midday
Now slow down as eventide comes to claim
spent worth of carrion's goods
from my weary eyes, the bow
Still the journey be far from over
Move on
Into the abysses of needless dissection
of day's measure spread, into happenings too wide to be read
But will prove legible in days to come
And with that,
its cycle completed
Arrow returns from target to bow
Only to be spent again,
to tread the time line of another day.
Born from the corrugated breath of dying sun,
a hymn cast, without crest nor breaking
for what appears to be eternity
a day's eternity, as can be,
a lifetime's
poem by Abhimanyu Raman
Added by Poetry Lover
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