30 Dec This Shall Pass

This shall pass, all tragedies swarm and decay
After a time, the Earth in its emptiest rings;
Thus with bruised, unthinkable anger I say
Time can heal nothing, for it ruins all things.

Stupid impulse indeed, to wait for the past:
What has gone, is gone; I kissed in the air
Hungry Chronos, lumbering giant-ghast,
Pale in flesh and manic in eye, in his lair.

Children eaten! evenso, like in a siege,
Fathers consume their sons with unpitied a dread,
Crying Chronos, that he regards his prestige:
Giving life to take it as his daily bread.