bits

The time for fools has come and gone.
Now the picture has been set.
In front of view, I can see,
how each tiny bit comes to life.
I feel inside a quickly slowing pace,
of life so grand-
it could brighten the world to the blind,
and sing the deaf to sleep.
it's inside.
I gladly watch each fiver fade away.
Invited to stay, sorrow rings though decrepid insides,
and slowly claws away.
A desolation fills its place,
Thare that picture hung,
once would think, now will shout.
Await the next ravenous wave to hit,
I know it's arrival will mark the end.
The tiny bits win.