Time is a blind bird
falling over you,
vanishing into blue petals,

while the wind
sweeps away the whistles
and calms the raging waves.

This pumping red rose,
hidden behind bone bars,
turned into black pebbles,
spinning in the depths of the ocean.

Everything I knew of thrones
and queens of hearts
is now an ancient tale,

a foreign city
where accents
were the only strength of any castle,
the only labour, the only gear,
the marigolds
in the mid of the midst.

The green diamond in the ring
is now a shiny scrap of metal,
returning to its ruins.

Everything we once believed
is just sand,

drifting backwards

until it vanishes from sight.