Tragic endings pile upon beautiful sunsets,
Casting a gold glow over death,
and cooking rancid corpses,
while sending the proof of their demise into the breeze burdened day.
Everything horrible was once wonderful,
and has lost its once contained innocence,
by the mocking clicks of the clocks flailing limbs.
It hogs time.
Time stands only on tongues thrashing its own praise.
Though it does not speak of the deceiving nature time can apply in devastating predicaments.
Answers locked by time,
In a tomb of truth
The truth that steals a mans trust,
from things unable to be seen with his own seeking eyes.
The body's that carry piece behind their discovery lay lifeless,
until their found discarded.
Then they live in souls.
Souls that broke as they had lost them.
Souls broken by other souls,
and their victims lay poorly represented by their cold etched in stones.