As Fate Would Have It

Time, fleeting and flying,
minutes dying in droves
as the clock hands
continue their spin;

my trawl among
the winding streets 
and hypnotic beats
leads me to a place
not unlike distant memories.

Time, bewildering and complex,
lets its winding roots reveal
a new plan for me
as I walk along the tombs
of bygone days;

the sun lies away
as the moon sets 
over the melding 
of past and present;
never can I redact
the dull nights
of longing and silence
from my history.

I revel in new scenery,
airbrushing old errs
from my mind;
I traverse the canvas,
embellishing my sights
with a rose tint.

Time, running and rushing,
cares not for my 
personal discretion;
days dying en masse,
I make them count
before they return to the earth.