Under Lock and Key
More precious than the royal emerald,
or nature’s once in a lifetime spectacle,
or the running of the dried up rivers again,
or the words in my mind without an end,
I keep them sealed under lock and key
in an iron vault under eternity’s decree.
Years pile on top of every year from before
like the never ending rains for ever more,
washing away the words that live inside
as Father Time takes me on a persistent ride
amongst the thieves who take away one more word
as I travel day after day that subsequently occured.
My mind is my precious tool for my success.
Father Time steals what he can and leaves me with the rest.
I keep them locked up in my iron vault
tightly sealed to form a solid wall.
So when I die I can keep what words remain
and remember so well from whence they came.
I hope I die with all what I know now.
