The marauder sits silent.
His patience outlasts.
He has seen time pass slowly,
Yet his time approaches fast.
His purpose proves his only desire.
Not the moments spent,
Nor an ambition to reach,
But the deed for which he is meant
The sacrifice of his existence,
The absence of a fulfilled mind,
For his chance to deliver fate,
To the unsuspecting traveler of time.
Down he sweeps undetected.
His presence felt but never heard.
His meaning complete with no pleasure.
Sets life to pieces, no reason referred.
Away he falls, deed delivered.
The marauder of many as one.
Singular purpose that affects all.
Singular moment noticed by none.
Congrats on the rising start at Voteforpoetry.org. I'm the admin there. Nice to see some life if the work there.
ReplyDeletethanks. vote for poetry is a great idea. i've been trying to get other poets in on it.
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