SONNET FOR STARING DOWN INFINITY IN THE QUIET OF THE EARLY MORNING
Oh painful time, you inspire me to write.
How I loathe the way you flow, run, escape,
Infecting my mind from sunrise to blank night
Always moving moving, with dark mouth agape.
Why should I despise your gaping maw,
When you must march from orders cryptic?
Grey heavens echo the great black crow’s caw,
That ushers us forward apocalyptic.
Why should I hate you, when you have no willful say?
Close your monarchic eyes and acquiescent hands.
Your glistening bright teeth write horrors my days.
Your omnipresent nature burns like sunned sands.
I know I cannot change you, despite desperate pleas,
Remember these bleak words whilst you bear down upon me.