Time is finite,
The clock will never stop ticking,
The sands forever fall,
We've hit rock bottom,
Now our climb back up the side won't be worthwhile,
Close your eyes and follow us into the black and white spiral!
After all is said and done,
Remember what we've passed on,
The Clock Marches Forever Onward,
You can't tie the hands back,
It'd waste precious seconds,
Take our words to the grave and find a God to which you'll pray,
Shattering the glass that holds us will simply make the sand run colder,
Blood and sweat will build sandcastles,
Just to be washed away with the tides,
Our anxieties we'll face head on,
Preparing ourselves for the end to come,
When our eyes go,
When our minds break,
When the cold embrace of death drowns us in the sand,
We'll leave behind our memories etched into stone.
How many times have we died?
Say goodbye to our inhibitions!
How much longer do we have?
The clock runs out of our reach!
Face our fears and anxieties!
Face our deaths with a smile and see,
A brand new future in the hands of the void,
Our time is nearly up,
How much more can we make?
Memento Mori,
In a single year,
Everything on this page will disappear,
View it while you can,
For soon,
It'll all be gone.
YOU ARE READING
Horologium In Piceno Aeturnus Instat.
PoesíaThis is a poem inspired by the Youtube channel, Unus Annus. It's a channel that will be deleted in nearly a year, and there's constant reminders that time is finite and we all die eventually. It's up to us to make the little time we have left someth...
