Hours

My hours
see you
they see me
they consume 
the existence
we know

Yet is it
a paradoxical
riddle that 
beguiled us
into believing
a delusion
to keep us
caged into
the dimension
that ensnares 

We broke bread
while securing
our armor 
for battle

A conflict
that turns
upon the
ones who
is fed

A entrée 
of Trust
serves better
than a reception
to  tergiversation

Making our world
an adversary
to the great beyond
the field of elysian, 
anything that 
contradicts the 
here and now

providing a
tormenting
Purgatory 
in living................................