When second trickles by as though a year

March 28, 2009

When second trickles by as though a year,
the minute it composes, centuries.
When grains of sand flow downward like the tears,
what can the hours be? Eternity!

In stillness, are the doubtful whispers heard;
they echo in the empty half of glass.
Again, the equilibrium disturbed
to let the drops inevitably be passed.

Unspoken words and deeds that are undone,
are constant occupants of mind and heart.
As in a glass, when they have traveled on,
in but a moment’s pace, again they start.

Let tears, regrets, be fuel for words, and deeds.
For I’ll not lose my chance to be with thee.

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