A moment’s reflection Pooled in thin air. Breathing in the dream As time falls like sand Between wrinkled fingers. Impossible to hold on to The wind forever lingers. A pendulum swings In the make believe

A sinking bell A black ocean cell How far we fell How far we fell? Slow vibrations deep into a sleeping well. Lost morning Too hard to tell How far it fell Sinking bell A homeward spell A sleeping well.

In this version of time Your future self can see your past self They can look back and shake their head But they can not communicate, Warn, or advise the past self of any future choices In fear the universe

Blur the fingerprint of time, Each decision A fork in the road To a predestined Untold Unknown Future. Who are we measured up against Every potential outcome? Guided intentions, Deliberate thoughts, Towards

Time as a river Flows into the sea A vast point of origins Where all souls wash ashore. Together we float in the infinite. Lost in the eddies Spiraling in the undercurrent Time is a medium To drift upon.

Pollution of thought I can hear the screaming The lonesome agony Searching momentary relief A Fleeting bliss In an endless abyss Drowning in desire Of an open fire That can’t be put out. I can feel the

Dreams like soft dust on still books. These pages never read. It is difficult sometimes To be the person we wish we could be Rather than the individual We regret We are. It is easy To fall victim To ourselves.

If Time is a limited resource Spent carelessly In the shadow and wake of lost moments. These buried treasures We’ve misplaced the map to. Squash the parasite That feeds on your time Sucking And draining

All things in their right places Memory like tree roots Ripple through earth and mind While wind cracks stone Making pebbles out of thoughts Ideas are forever. Reaching between neurons We are built out

The body moves through time and space at the continuous decaying rate of travel. The back of my hand wrinkling, Leather, Weakening. Limitations of the physical world is the medium the human body occupies,

Her tears fall He tries to comfort them Her heart ache will last a lifetime His will be a moment and eternal “It will be alright,” he says. “The universe is infinite, With parallel worlds, Every possibility

Tiny petals that fly, An assortment of wishes dancing on pollenated dreams. The buzz that hums eternal. The way of the Dragonfly. Intersect the mother while the child cries endless all day. For many past

Part 4: “To Be Quite Frank” His hands shake approaching the monolith during a fog filled night. Low streams of gray wisp between building and tree. A horse cries in the night. Darkness looms and a howling

Part 3: “Playback” Shiny glass eyes peering keep watch from dark windows and quiet doorways of bleached dwellings. Frank and Ernest make their way further through the white city. WARNING! *This story contains

The things we find, Out there, Nowhere. But always, It is somewhere, Even if no one else is there. Sometimes those are the best places. There is always something in nothing. Silence being wonderful. The

Chapter Two: "Frank and Ernest" Pt 1 & 2 Note to reader: It is not necessary to know or to have read Chapter One, but it might help. The main thing to know is ...many many years have passed

"In the pines, in the pines, where the sun never shines..." Oh Lead Belly, a truly eerie classic. These days of isolation have turned to weeks, has turned to a month. The feeling of lingering

Part VI: The Earth Cracks Open Alex watches as two cloaked figures hold a man’s arms out. He is shirtless, emotionless, and not resisting. The hooded figures inject a fluid into his arm. It travels quick

Part IV: Agree to Disagree “What’s the archaeologist detective work that brings you here?” asked the Sheriff. “Ain’t nothing out here. Didn't you get the memo at the door? The future doesn't work here.”

Part III: Bar Talk “I guess I can make an exception,” she says. “Great!” Alex smiles a wide happy grin. “I'm looking for someone.” “Is that so? Ain’t we all.” She says crossing her arms and raising an