Let none think to fly the danger for soon or late love is his own avenger.
Let none think to fly the danger for soon or late love is his own avenger.
Oh Time the beautifier of the dead, adorer of the ruin, comforter and only healer when the heart hath bled... Time, the avenger
Would the departed never nowhere nohow reappear Ever he would wander, selfcompelled, to the extreme limit of his cometary orbit, beyond the fixed stars and variable suns and telescopic planets, astronomical waifs and strays, to the extreme boundary of space, passing from land to land, among peoples, amid events. Somewhere imperceptibly he would hear and somehow reluctantly, suncompelled, obey the summons of recall. Whence, disappearing from the constellation of the Northern Crown he would somehow reappear reborn above delta in the constellation of Cassiopeia and after incalculable eons of peregrination return an estranged avenger, a wreaker of justice on malefactors, a dark crusader, a sleeper awakened, with financial resources (by supposition) surpassing those of Rothschild or the silver king.
Time, the avenger unto thee I lift My hands, and eyes, and heart, and crave of thee a gift.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories