The dead are calling. They sit on their headstones
Like grotesque, heckling gargoyles.
They yell at me, I have no time,
I am alone in this, no one can help me
As wolves unfold among the sheep,
White as a bridal gown.
I seal them in under black, thick tar,
In a shoebox, do not let them sniff me out,
Chase me down before I run out,
Time cannot protect me, it is not my friend,
But I know I will win in the end,
And I will go when I will go, before time defeats me.
Too much left to do, to write,
The things that keep me here, I know they wait
For my decision, my choice.
They try to distract me with thick fog and hope I go missing,
But what they are missing is what I can do best,
Navigate in darkness and invisible places.
I know they have a place prepared for me,
They like to think of me as family,
A place where everything is red and black,
They think it scares me more than where I am
Already now, it makes me laugh,
And all I think is 'not just yet'.
Jan Hauck's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Against Time by Jan Hauck )
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- Our World, Claude H Oliver II