Wasting AwayA Poem by Adam M. SnowWhat is this? Fading fast beyond our grasp; ticking, tocking. Ev'ry hour stalking; like its prey, we're hunted - a wild game devoured.![]() Wasting Away Written by Adam M. Snow What is this? Fading fast beyond our grasp; ticking, tocking. Ev'ry hour stalking; like its prey, we're hunted - a wild game devoured. What is true in a river of lies, wasting away as time flies? This cannot be our reality, the iron in our blood - rusting as we lay resting. Feasted upon ev'ry hour, drained, until there's nothing left. Oh, but I protest! Surely, there is more. A look back at what was before. If we could turn back its hands, then perhaps we would stop the falling sands. Then what would be, if not a fantasy to be shattered? Then so be it, for time does not matter. For in a dream, we're nothing, but an echo of what is to come. ![]() © 2018 Adam M. SnowReviews
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Added on September 2, 2018Last Updated on September 2, 2018 AuthorAdam M. SnowPhoenix , AZAbout"The writer’s mind, can surpass even the most intellectual minds." –Adam M. Snow I keep my work clean, I write to inspire others. Some people would even call me a philosopher, but w.. more.. |



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