Wanderer by the Shore

By: Gus Victoria

The eddies of time

Swirl irreverent,

Ripples of chance

Break the plane

Crafted by a Creator

Beyond mortal ken,

Understood by none

That still draw breath,

On the shore of reason,

The lake of storms

Beckons, a lover, so sweetly,

Confusion clothed in passion

To make sense of diffusion,

No craft to sail,

No home to defend,

The wanderer by the shore

Marches on forever more.

The Inexorable March

By: Gus Victoria

The inexorable march of Time

Recognizes no barrier

And is grander than Thought.

It outlasts Death

And grind us all to dust

Marching on

Memory forgets and then

Even the dust disappears.

The fertile youth once

Is no more

Hopes and dreams

That sprang from boundless potential

Are dashed upon the rocks of reality

Sterile, dead.

Love is no subject of Time.

Eternal both,

Without beginning

Without end,

They exist

Boundless and limitless

In power and in scope.

Hope is their child.

Faith is believing

What cannot be seen

And seeing

What cannot be believed.

Faith always dies first.