O Century

O Century,
where were you when our love blistered, cracked,
and fell into the soundless sleep
that makes a bitter resonance of days?

O Century,
where were you, when the clock struck dumb
the voices raised in anguish and despair
then crushed their sweet rebellion of hope?

Time heals nothing
but sucks our bones and grinds it’s carbon teeth,
drools the slick-black spittle,
and builds Empires from the ash.
Blameless we shall walk before you,
proud in our reckless wisdom,
but doomed.