The Inevitable
Furtively, he lurks, somewhere beyond,
With a wand and a cape full of secrets.
Like a beast in the night
He stays out of sight
And he whispers of visions unseen.
A master key he holds,
To open all our doors.
But we are his toys
And he holds our very lives
In his cold-blooded fist.
He has no form,
Has known our fate since the day we were born.
Yes, he is the future,
And whatever the future holds
Only unfolds when he becomes present.
But we cannot grasp the present.
He slides so fast into the past.
But ominously, there the future stands
And everything, yes, everything
Belongs to him.
Carol Hammond
Copyright ©2007 Carol Hammond
2007-08-13
23:33:56
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➔ Poetry