Engraved From Time

A fragrance called history
emits from the movement of your bones
and character, defined for ill or good
presents itself through your vaunted mores.

Insatiable hunger, parasitic delights
combine a heist of temporal catastrophe
for nothing can be stolen
that never was acknowledged.

Life retreats behind hollow screens
blocked an infinite stream of consciousness
a continuous communication that leaves no time
for the self to break through.

When did these walls masquerading as events
congeal to form this stolid proxy of a human being
Why did these floods appear as gifts
as they zap living ecosystem for monolithic context.

We look upon such statues of friends and family
with horror and disappointment
for love always holds another in highest regard
and thus deepens the pain of their vanished becoming.

Yet horror is compounded when it is noticed
the same vines entangle our psychic limbs
the same rails guard our bodily minds
and time’s war holds no quarter for moments captive.

And reaction demands we make a vow
to not turn to stone but remain pliant
through endless wandering across new spaces
seek to keep the sand from flowing.

But what guarantee is there in the simple negation
why is this not just another knot
to bind us equally the same
to the same, as death looms in eye’s corner.

A cycle must be seen before it is broken
and transcendence requires material
so submit to rise above
by pushing yourself into the furnace.

And then you may hear the silent song
humming through these poor old statues
as sure as cells die and are pushed outwards to make skin
do you enclose yourself ever deeper in memory.