Killing Time

The ruse of the muse remains
silent
still.
The capture of the keys are forgotten
in rhyme.
The smallest
       period
                of
                   line
                        divides.
While the wilted stories are
sparing
time.
And the lucious intent of mine
divine.
The night
       reminds me
                        of nature's design.
The emotions rewarding
your time
to spare.
Ready as I'll ever be
is
  never
          ready
                  to
                     the
                         sight
                                of
                                   me.
The time restrains my evil pace.
The quilted concern of your embrace
can never be parallel
to the thought of
my name.
The stars refuse to align among
the forcing of time.
I've come to accept the
a
 d
  o
   r
    n
     m
      e
       n
        t
in the properties that console
gravity.
Yet, the great space will haunt me
still,
as I abide
             this
                  time
                        to
                           kill.