Now…(Don’t make love wait)

Promiseshave grown old.While the clockwaits for the timeto turn around.The wrinkled skin,with the memory,of losses,beats the eyeswhich is still blinkingwith hope,that time shallturn around. Hopehas waned.While it was withoutit had become a habitwhich was hard to die.The aching bone,fooled to believe,faith moves mountain.Waited on,till the fire burned outthat time shallturn around. Faithdid die.While appeasing,its limits