Time is all

[kryptonitemonkey]

Somewhere up above,
the looking one gazes,
lost in thought and mind,
waiting for his time to come.
Somewhere else another sees,
hurting for a chance,
longing for a turn at the game.
A hoard awaits the moment,
for a second of weakness,
a gap that looms wide for them.
Somewhere along the road,
a little man passes by life,
waving with a hint of smile,
and ambles on without
a time in mind, without a care.
A little one speaks of tomorrow,
looking blindly to the sky,
unaware of the snake at his feet.
The end waltzes in style,
twirling about, shaking its fist,
mocking those who cannot see
and pretend they know,
for they are the first,
the first ones to taste death,
bitter and sardonic with glee.
I see myself standing now,
somewhere in the dust, the haze,
waiting for the moment,
waiting for end, with a twist
to my mouth, a deep cut inside,
ripping open with every new turn,
dying my clothes with pain.
The final cut, the final tear,
the cutting blade, I know,
is coming soon, I feel it,
a little pulse inside,
coming now, and still
the dark amasses further,
rising day and night now.
The dark is rising for the moment,
soon to open the gates,
soon to fulfill the final plan,
and still I stand here,
watching it all in silence,
and still the watcher watches,
the seeing one sees and longs,
the hoards bolsters and roars,
the man marches down the road,
and the little one avoids.
Soon it shall change, soon
it shall be different,
and still I stand waiting.