The Gauntlet of Time

Incisor

         Gauntlet’s thrown

Trails beyond the coil’s might

Tightly strung is carnelian’s light

         Trans-lucent milky

The crystals made from chalcedony

Impostor, so be found, deep inside, shies the arch of trothed pass

         To one’s self, insolence retraced,

                  The fiend, which feasts on veils of glass

Is nothing more than a past-life erased

Tapestries fade

And new draperies take their place

Time’s sand sifts though

But only if you forget to reverse its flow