MACÉDOINE [Poetry]

CRIES TIME

As the sand drips to the lower bulb of the hourglass,
'T continues with the tick-tock of the clock-
Changing the digits on the screen,
'T never stops e'en if thou reverse it and block.

The master of all,Father time-it's called;
More precious than everything.
It's worth's known but taken for granted,
It's existence,we forget;while it's our continuation,

In it's maintenance,we never engage,
While it's fading away with every ticking,
Saying "I'm moving and irreversible"
"O thou notice me,use every bit of me"cries it.

But we never hear or notice it,
In worldly things,we're occupied,
"Wake up before I'll come to an end"it begs
Wake up O Man!

@poetickaleidoscope