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Time Does Not Live Here Anymore
Agèd and listless!—
Time does not live here anymore!
The broken, battered, balding plains
covered in dead washed free
or the inequality of
equal creations in their births.
Where is life in peaceful worlds?
the fearless, deathless, Elysian fields?
There rests Achilles, without shield,
without threat—a shadow himself.
For time lives here not anymore!
Odysseus weathered so true,
could not see the hero’s longing
release from monotonous death—
the un-life immortality,
the fearless nature bread from ends
of lost loves in relinquished lives.
When will there be…
another great Age of Heroes?
another Nestor or Ajax?
When will there be…
glory gathered through combat?
glory in forging warriors?
When will the Age of Kronos be?
Because time cannot live here.
It is not welcome in the Age
of Man, this, the Age of Women—
where frailty is lifted to the heavens,
embalmed in gold and drenched in myrrh.
Here there is freedom to fall, to be stepped
on by feathered shoes, slapped in the face
by cotton and scolded by fierce-less claws.
Time does not live here anymore.
It cannot live where fear is not.
Extinct like the gods that granted
fire, the gods that granted quests,
challenging us to overcome
frailty rather than embrace it.
It does not live here anymore,
because we wont allow it.
Since I am no poet, try these out. They are better... I promise.
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A better poem, by a better poets
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