I feel it, stain and corrode, settling as I sit still.
I feel it on the wayside, jettison from unknown ships that sail in the sky at night, and leave what it would falling and crashing without sound in the silence of sleep.
No witness. No words murmured upon the morn.
Just the sights of empty hourglasses, broken watches, faceless clocks. No one to ponder upon each.
For what I imagine time to be at these moments at this hour. I do sit sleepless, unengaged save for but one thought through my head. It speaks but a riddle, solved by no sphinx at all.
I’ve no idea what time maybe. What fate should be. How either mingle and unfold before me. Where youth and vigor end. When time and tide toll their bell for me.
I’ve no answer, just a curb to kick and the want to smoke as I look upon muted stars. They’re so far away.
I don’t know where they will lead me to, what sky they’ll glimmer upon later.
I just know that I’ll somehow always be here. Under them. Just looking at them.
On the wayside.