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Fare thee well, dear souls,



I bid thee goodbye for now, for this moment.

My time has cut too short

and the sands of my hourglass have run long past empty.



The clock that wound this heart of hope

has slowly ceased its ticking,

the inner workings now rusted from wear.



'Tis not a life I chose,

'tis not one I would wish upon any other,

for the pain be too intense to be that cruel.



So I must depart from here, for now-

and take up a restful stance,

somewhere which time has forgot.



Mayhaps, if I were to remain there awhile,

in a timeless state, freezing the hands of fate,

this process may be reversed.



And the sands of my time

shall be turned over to flow

in opposite direction once more.