The T.S. Eliot One

In my beginning is my end.
Shape without form, shade without color,
Paralyzing force, gesture without motion.
Keeping time
Keeping the rythmn in their dancing
The time of milking and the time of harvest
Time the destroyer is time the perserver.
The houses are all gone under the sea
The dancers are all gone under the hill.
This is the way T.S. Eliot ended
This is the way t.s. eliot ended
Not with a bang, but a whimper