PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Tick. Tick. Tick. 

The ticking hands of the clock become your daily mantra

There is little time for many things -

Rest. Relationships. Relaxation

They are like fine wine, meant to be savored after fifty years 
And not a moment sooner 

Tick. Tick.
The clock continues its steady rhythm

Time is deaf to your pleas, your bargains 

Your cries hold no bearing on this fair judge
Time shan't reverse as per your desires

It does not fit to your needs. You submit to its judgement 

Tick. 

You realise the foolishness of your mule manner
No longer do you writhe and moan against the fate given to you by Time
So at this last leg, you race to reach your goals 
As the last grains of sands drain  - the end draws near
Run! Run! The hands of Time are signing your warrant. 

Alas - the irksome, thumping hands stop
The ticks and tocks matter not for your heart has finished its final beat
Did you suceed? Were you even close?

Time has presided over your mortal life. Don't Lie.

For you cannot fool the ultimate trickster