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While working on the article 'My Top 10 Songs' I got this particular idea as I wrote on Floyd's track 'Time'.

Time Flies


As callous hands wrench open the gut

To feed from a sour heart

Nourishes the maggots of the mind

A feast for the greatness of Time.

Greyness and joint aches

Reach the height of a mad aftertaste

A terrifying image of the near future

A coffin some flowers and a prayer

For the end as birth is just nature.

It doesn't stop It doesn't wait


The stability of continued doom

Time flies beyond bloom and gloom

Life and death

It piles both in the same store

Till the hours are over

But our dreams and plans are there for more.

It flutters by like a butterfly

Incessant demands

Running to meet commands

That the minds cry

To race and catch up

Before all hopes slip by.

So waste no more of it

Assumed attendance don’t make it

For a fickle mood it carries

Its availability is temporary

Rest in one place it does nary.

© 2019 Tiyasha Maitra

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