It was 1882, I walked along memory lane
Searching
Searching
For something
I don't remember
But these sands of time
Steal my dreams
the way you stole mine
I throttled the pain,
Drank rum three days straight
But the hours stand still
Minutes abandon me
I did something the Baskervilles never will
I saw life before me
Busying itself, coming and going
Reversing and speeding
Departing and returning
I now feel the nagging heat of the sun
Poking and laughing
I sense an awe in which history has left
Life was fleeting
New poem
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