Worm Time

Three years down
in throb and pale
all mysteries resolve
at pace unknown
and yet you call
as if you knew
the brightest star
will fade and fail

The space between
lies silent and stale
leaving words unsaid
but sting the same
the shortest dark
can still conceal
patient they wait
for the final nail

they twist and turn,
reach and yearn,
ache and burn,

in fear of the worm.