Waiting Still

While waiting for the careless time to pass

it’s easy to forget that time has passed;

that time is glacial and relentless; time

has worn away the world. Relentless, fixed,

it’s steady, steady, steady till it’s not;

and minutes stretch into infinity

and nothing happens. Nothing hangs around

repeatedly repeating nothingness,

a carousel of emptiness, a time

of waiting never ending. Waiting. Still.

Tomorrow and the future never comes.

The present, past and future all are dead.

There’s only now, the ever present now;

the silent, empty, prison that is now.

There’s only the infinity of now.

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