The hour glass slips from the fangs of the great serpent with golden scales slipping from the core.
To lose control over an important matter that held the balance of the scale of great Justice into normality.
Time slips into the hands of the void, becoming a concept rather than a physical object.
Beasts tear the fragments of time around like a toy, changing its properties.
The hour glass tips, and the sand held within the cracked walls of the transparent glass pours.
Sections of the sand of time turns to ash as it reaches the bottom of a sack of darkness.
The rest of the sand makes a home to globes around the universe, recorded and binded to a law.
Other fragments freeze inside the inner bone of the wicked worm sucking the energy out of what crosses its path.
Lost, damaged, or reformed, the serpent watched with an open eyes forced to make a move if all revolt.
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Poems
Poetry"The universe kissed the stars, who birthed a galaxy of new beginnings." The only way to express beautiful and cynical thoughts is through the delightful invention of simple, and yet complex, poetry. My poems never end, have no defined theme and st...
