What is time, But an unending maze, Telling the story of our lives. Memories frozen within, Just a fraction of a lifetime.
What is life, But a speck of dust floating along on the wind, The dark truth of reality, is that, it is a war we will never win.
24 hours, 60 hours a day, 7 days a week, How we spend those precious minutes, Is up to only us. Because at the end of the day, We are our worst enemy.
The time we waste, never returns. But haunts us, and hangs on our lives, Like a thorny cross. Glaring down at our pitiful existence, From its' ivory throne above.
What is time? A spark, a flame, Rising up for a little time, Only to burn out, But a short time later.
What is life? But a cycle that never stops, From the first breath, To final, everlasting death.
By Shamiah James Blugh Time Published on Monday, July 5th, 2021
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