Time is on a phantom pendulum
pirouetting as he waves his goodbye
Never turning back,
the pendulum project time only forward
We’re in restless turbulence
Sighing in our rain soaked singing suits
Dancing in puddles and under blinking streetlights
Begging time to render
us to remain as we are now
We’re clinging onto our impossible interpretation
Our laughter is
authentic in our self proclaimed
freedom
Rain soaked and grinning
we cling onto the rattling rails,
the rods that propel this phantom pendulum
Blood batting life
into what we know we are
Some days I can accept it
Others, this repertoire is revolting
Time is disconnected from what we need
Time doesn’t mean to steal
or heal
Time.
Just.
Is.
Time is on a phantom pendulum
swinging only forward
We are the only ones
self-indulged enough in conceiving
we are in control
Dawning Creations 
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