Of Time. And Again

Image Courtesy - Santiago Caruso (artist)

deviantart.com(site)

It's The Tale of Time in his glory days,

When father son spite was no mere lore.

The age of gold is when neither Time's gorging

Nor neutering was e'er heeded as gore.

Of Time's time in many fathom far a prison

In Tartarus - the lightless lair;

He lived with his kin

For his Father - Uranus; exiled them there

To, when armed with a sickle and a mother's cry

Only He stood up and cared to dare

And lay the vengeance upon the king

Neutering him with the blade, leaving him but bare

But was it Time's Will,

Was it Greed,

Lust,

Gluttony,

Or Despair,

Or did he plain do so, for his mother's care?

Then proceeded the golden age

And all was just and fair

Until such a day arrived - he beheld

The imminent ages conniving glare

In his rule when law was an unneed

He was made painfully aware

That for his own ill deed

The nemesis was spelt in his own heir

The idea to arise from the story of Time

Is, despite the sins and brutality and grime

His days were those spent in blatant peace

By those cursed by mere mortality

While he and his kin with all rulers of universe

Dipped to bones in immortality

That’s if you don’t involve immorality!

Then again who sets the pace?

And who’s to say what’s right what’s wrong

Who could deny that it was The Time’s own age!