Final Admission

Kronos continuously creeping steadily in my childhood Mays

now sprints past sometimes in spasms seemingly jumping whole days.

And I wander in a beautiful garden in those missing hours.

Memories are misty in my mind but I still can smell the flowers.

A face fades in and out of my vision. A stranger yet I should know him.

I stare at pleading soul ravaged caverns and a bright diamond forms at their rim.

While I watch it tumble past wrinkled parchment through befuddled veils I try to fathom,

while my bewildered mind peers past the roses, just where that falling star has come from.

And I hear a voice echo from afar. Now it’s time to go home sir.

She really won’t know you're not here, and we’ll look after her.