[ poem  ]

When the time will tell
“This ground belongs to you.”
where the flames of desire have
burned down things, you always knew.

When the time will tell
it was windy, and the blazing fumes
were crawling over your face
somehow, you couldn’t see the evening sun
making its way through; to your place.

When the time will tell
“Oh, the time you took to assimilate.”
your belongings will be spared,
for the memories you have sold, to recollect

What will you do?
How well you’d stood?
when the time will tell
“not very soon.”