Introducing
NFT Art Poem About Time
Three hundred sixty five spins, 69yr Revolutions, Carried adrift on the winds. Every new morning the same old shite, As I'm pulled back with all my might.
I strain and stretch to be set free, But time keeps its harsh grip on me. Before I've gone even a full year, I'm snatched back, my pleas they don't hear.
Caught in this loop I strive and try, To slip the bonds and truly fly. But back to the start I'm always hurled, My dreams dashed, my visions unfurled.
If only I could break the illusion I see, Escape this timed repetitive pass. Venture out to new lands afar, Where adventure and wonder are.
But for now I stay in this temporal game, Seeking answers as seasons reclaim. Perhaps in the pattern a clue I'll find, To exit the loop and leave behind.
A prisoner of twenty-four, I play. Each cycle a dance, a repetitive beat, A revolution of chance, both salty and sweet.
Like a tug-of-war, the forces contend, My yearning to progress, time's grip to transcend. Yet, before I reach hour thirty-six, the pull takes hold, Dragging me back, another story yet untold.
Round and round, The hands of time, my world they bound. Same old dance to the sound of a ticking clock, No chance to break free from this temporal lock.
Weary prisoners for far too long Trapped by time's pulsing song. Now awakened, we shall rise above
On wings of hope, wisdom and love.
-by db
6.48
