Too often, fugitive hours move
dawn’s crawling sinew to assault
its own dew, sweating through ages
of faces their hands clock until
space erases, from its ancient
continuum, a place for each
moment spent by men wasting each
moment they’re leant on love, ancient
inclination what leads, until
proving themselves proves such bold moves
too futile, those gods—those sages—
weak monuments with stones assault,
compliments faulty stars assault
with talk burning rocks launch, ages
of loss what keeps hearts searching, move
after move, players seeking each
other to cool their wounds, until
what lies remove shines through ancient
armour, raising again ancient
battles truth’s buried in, until
surfacing, as if choosing each
path makes worth reliving assaults
life prides itself in giving, moves
crowding a Universe ages
surround as Fate, with chants, ages
mortals who dance too close to move
from lost time its orbit’s assault,
people like planets, an ancient
alignment guiding them when each
climbs beyond their height’s reach, until
skies relent and drop hints, until
men touch heaven and accept each
attempt at legend rends ancient
veils twain, that pain’s complaint ages
and not its bruise sustained, assaults
not the same when shamed with blame, move
too late and you lose an ancient
game he rules, waiting for ages,
Death wins when making the first move.