O' Time! I was Pretty

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Religion and Spirituality  |  House: Booksie Classic
The poem is mourning of an old man who has become old. He realizes his past misdeeds and is encouraged to be pardoned.

Submitted: July 25, 2017

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Submitted: July 25, 2017



My Desire’s blunted now.

Time’s Strike has made me ancient;

I saw Reflection long ago;

Eyes’ volume have become less;

Back has turned to bow;

The Third-leg leads me;

Hands can’t grip.

O’ Time! I was pretty.

Nothing exists in its proper shape;

Senses are lost;

Taste is no more, but

Spiritual Beauty remains still removed.

Ugliness’s reflecting from forehead,

For there’s no Mark of Love.

Has indulged, every God gifted aspect

O’ Time! I was pretty.

Unconquerable to the Dark- Lord:

He has left me and gone.

O’ Damned! What I did to you?

Spoiled my peace, my Garden--

Yes, punishment should be my doom:

I did of my own accord!

I deserve; for my years’ misdeeds.

O’ Time! I was pretty.

Mortal! Recognize! Nothing’s disastrous--

Come! Come to the success

Walk! Walk to the dignity!

Amnesty’s doors are still Naked.

Perish the Black deeds

You earned by leaps and bounds.

It is still your art till the Decided Day.

Ahh! Time, I was pretty.

© Copyright 2018 M.S. Sagar. All rights reserved.

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