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• Isabella Tattersall, Grade 12
• Poetry
• 2021

Time is always alone.
Thoughts gather and ebb like that of a soul in purgatory
As time watches the thread of life as it is weaved, given and cut.

Time sways to the music -
Of the life breathed from lips, as she returns naked as a baby to paradise.
Of the clasping hands of innocence as a thread clasps tightly round its heart.
The Ambrosia escapes from Times pores, immortality has broken his soul
No life is freely given, like death is quickly taken, to control what is not
yours is to live a life of servitude.

Soon the dust will settle from the beat of angels wings
As the soothing voice of acceptance lovingly smothers his mind,
and the cards of fortune finally reveal their hand:
Time will break and repair and mend
To the voices of souls in life and death.
Time will stop when the drink runs out, and time itself is a soulless thing.