Heart Timed Out

This ever blackening crevasse grows with the swiftness of a racing steed. Only to be mirrored with the force of a thousand hooves.

Soft tenderness cracked away as chipping paint or lips of weary, ill, forgotten children under wrath of cruel winter's kiss.

Had we not raped away the wisdom and divinity of this world's beating heart, maybe our flawed ideas of space and see to give us a second chance.

We knocked out her teeth for use as white picket fences, bled her heart's vessels for automobile fuel.

Tell me, what does one say before ripping mother's dying heart from chest cavity?

And only when her love and forgiveness is dead and gone, do we realize that her wisdom and grace may have saved us.

Soon her angered spirit returns to rack up the body count, and rivers will run red with the blood of those who stole her youth.

It is clear only in the omega will we view the truth clearly, we were perfectly imperfect and lived as kings in our genesis.

But by then our angry mother will have exacted her revenge, and we will be swept up in the dust now past with the sands of time.