Font Color='#880000'Beating Time [english Sonnet]/Font
Along entropic tides of crashing mind,
Disorder's surf, in currents tread and rolled,
Leaves Cause afar upstream, and over time
To seem preceding Effect on the shore.
But in each wave a moment shifts to see
A dream where complications disappear,
For presence makes past tense of memory
While orderly discordance deems it here.
But is the Past at any time more real,
For being Now, complete from where I stand,
Than all these Future dreams, that streams conceal,
If simply put, such dreams are all I am?
For simpletons the truth is always cold,
But wading there, I think it leaves me old.