The Hounds Of Time (Poetry)

I hear the hours snapping
they’re close upon my heels
they dog my every detour
at least that’s how it feels

Some lolling tongue has tasted
the scent of slow demise
past decades all but wasted
the once-bright fading eyes

This quarry’s old and weary
there’s no place left to hide
the mirror holds no secrets
when shadow’s brushed aside

There’s nowhere left to run to
the hounds of time are here
they’re panting in close rhythm
their message loud and clear