I'm just sitting here...
Dealing with the aftermath,
Lost to the afterglow as it's waning,
Draining the clockwork away...
Where does the time go once it's gone?
What happens to make those rusted, faded hands
Move toward the epitome of their own doom,
Ever quickening, hastily retreating
Into the woodwork from whence they crawl...
Don't take things for granted,
Even a single second lost is gone forever,
Live your life, long and full,
A life full of lies is still better than regrets.
Actions, much better than tepid stillness,
Stillness is deadly as the silhouette
Of all the rusted, wasteful years...
Time is never kind.