Grains of sand slipping through my fingers.
The sands of the broken hourglass stop in time.
The golden specks of dust gather at my feet
and are blown away by the wind.
Just a forgotten memory.
My arms fall off and soon my head.
My spirit lingers, pondering what went wrong this dreadful day.
I thought time has stopped.
I can't be dead.
I quickly learned that never-ending is this thing called time.
And I wasted it,
crying over this broken hourglass of mine.