169

The wait can seem endless until you wait,
and the minutes that pass slowly just match
your speed at the time, the steadiest gait
that ever did tread upon the wide thatch:
Naturally, you were born to conform time
to the fluid process of true spirit,
which coils and uncoils without any slime
like a leathery serpent in a pit:
It was camouflaged in its own darkness,
an expanse of space so void of violence,
until Time sliced his scythe through his dark dress,
cutting himself into past and presence:
The snake sloughed itself to the otherside
with a twisted law: conquer and divide.

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