On the clock,

On the clock,

It never stands

To be held back.

Even when it is the answer,

It is pressing,

Winding down.

In passing,

It precedes us.

Staying ahead,

It leads us into

Tomorrow,

Without ever waiting.

And yet, we never

Beat it.

One foot always

Anchored

In a past, we never

Leave behind.

Tied as we are

With eternal bonds.

Echoed in beating hearts,

And carried

Within our souls

Through all our days.

Is it any wonder

We find it

So hard to come by.

Yet still, we try.

Holding back the years,

Attempts to stay its progress,

Halt its inevitability,

Become,

An exercise in futility.

It continues,

Blindly onward.

And slips,

Unhindered,

As the hour glass turns.

Countless tiny grains,

Ground from ages past,

Always falling,

Never still,

Until the end.