snapped wings cannot fly
your soul has fled from your open black eyes
i say you're gone,
but as i sweep you aside
you sting like you're still in there
(so i leave you alone, 'cause
i don't wanna dirty my hands
diary of a time-travelerFrom my pedestal a thousand years in the future,diary of a time-traveler by KittykatMWuster
I see the sky blurring by.
The present time has no definition. It is now,
where I stand;
and I have a billion feet that stand then and after
all at the same time.
(Time is merely a nursery rhyme -
things the sky says as we go to sleep.
Day after day, our footsteps are the same.)
Here I stand now, on my pedestal, on the silent shore of then and after,
and I discover that time is merely a single footstep
compared to the billion footsteps of us.
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