by M. Joseph

Created on: January 13, 2009

Time as a master is hard to appease,

He moves on quick cadance,

Pulling us along,

We're bound to him by chains,

Made of heart beats,

No time for a rest,

No time for a breath in the absence of seasons,

Toiling hard, we each reap more years

For Master Time's great store,

We keep tally for him,

We celebrate each new year we add,

As though it may be the last

Troubled by the continual push

Of past on present,

Free of worry,

Free of care,

Where time doesn't matter,

Because life moves more nicely

Along the path to the end.

We do this each year,

Never realizing our hope,

Until the last breath is spent,

The last heartbeat in the chain finally breaks,

And we pass Time on the road,

He stops,

He stares,

He forgets us,

And moves on.

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