Time
It walks unshod through halls of gold, It dims the eyes of heroes bold. A silent guest, no gate can bind, It bends the pride of brave knights’ minds.
It hums within the casket, grave, The strong it tames, the meek it shaves. A measured breath that twists or turns To dust, the restless moments burn.
In dark and light, it will not scare, But in the end, it kills, no care. It has no lungs yet blows away, A thief of now, but it makes the day.
It ends your life and mine alike, But no-one knows when it might strike. It walks unseen through hall and field, No gate can bar, no wall can shield.
Emily Murdock-Smith
16