Time Travel

Time weaves but tears
From the ornamental wheel
Stifled at the axis of intransigence
Whence angels mourn
With the laying on of hands upon my inertia
Invisible to these catatonic eyes
And insignificant it is to remedy
​​​​​​What virulent spasms spew
Through the cracks and chasms of my disease

And there you are
Dressed for the scene of life
And that scene I have always craved
As the song comes on to remind me
How long it's been
Since that cold October I espied
The adumbrate of sorrow around my eyes
Where death had bellowed for my escape
And the wardrobe; a portal
For surfeited souls to lay
Buried amongst my sordid clothing
​​​​​​Expired far beyond exchange

Behold the object of my nostalgia
Outworn by time's caress
And yet a melancholic souvenir of sadness
Of one withholding a cathartic breath
And this flesh I fear
The younger will never repossess
But roam its cluttered hallways of ad nauseam
Where time is nothing but everything to forget
And to you I leave the noose in the wardrobe
With not a morsel of regard for my regrets

So tread with discretion
When you dare endeavour to unearth the past
For you may fall into your grave
As you wish to relive you may
For the time you wanted back 
Behold that life is this relived and this life may not exist
Beyond the vision avidity perseverates to last