Death of the Time Traveler

Listen to the rhythum of my heart

As it beats out a measure in 4/4 time

My pulse quickens as I count each beat,

She will be on me soon

I must be fleet.

One moment lapse across the epoch of time,

where I have been pursued thru the dimension phase shifts

during the periods of my prime.

I tire of this game,

and the rhythum slows,

She pounces, devouring my essence

Leaving an empty shell to show.

Having been satiated for the moment,

she fades back into the time stream until she

hungers once more.

By huck hickson

© 2004 huck hickson (All rights reserved)

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