Too many ampersands before me


A call comes from the top floor of the heart chamber,
there were many ampersands before me
with your name and others.

The bell does not chime as clear as the sound
in the chamber with three doorways.
The sand's surface never ages,
nor does it reveal past events.

Wrinkles become medals of hard fought
wars and battles,
and should be bravely displayed.

Time comes to everyone and only fools
realize the toll it takes, instead of
living a sentence without a closed parenthesis.

The days, weeks and years mark commas
and no one with certainty writes their own period.
Life is one, love and lies are many.
Wounds leave scars and
joy is a forgotten gesture.

We are remnants of what we were,
the shadow behind a glorious image.
Metals rust and bones turn to dust.
Only the sins of the forefathers continue
to rear their faces with new masks.

Copyright - DirkWojtczack