Be still my beating heart

and stop racing along as if you are being wound up

by Time, slow down, don’t dart

along as if the most beautiful woman

had asked you to kiss her with no commitment

to ever take her to bed.

I never imagined I would go this way,

I had the image of finally finding out what boredom was like,

the taste of a life, stuck in a bed, only resting they say and I

would joke along that rest is what you do when you

have nothing left to live for, even if it’s for a short while,

that Time corrodes and eats away like rust

when the mind is inactive, if it not jumping

fences and solving enigmatic puzzles,

rust  and corrode, like a battery leaking its dynamic

power all over the inside of a radio,

reception never being heard again, the sound filtered, dying,

dead and the shaking of the tube flatters to deceive.

Be still my beating heart,

stop being foolish, life is lived by those

who want to live

even if eventually they want to die an exhausted death,

the billion heart beats loaned,

soon stopped in their tracks by corrosive Time,

be still my corrosive heart.

Ian D. Hall 2015