We're in a perpetual rush
Racing to our deaths before we even know it
When was the last time you looked at yourself?
Or at the wind fluttering the leaves?
Or the sun filtering through your windows?
Or the gentle rise and fall of a baby's breath?
Or at the chaos and beauty of everything and anything all at once?
Only to remember the deadlines and time counters
the world has thrown at us
Living as if we are being caught with the chains of an invisible force
Time's a tyrant that has killed us even before we are truly dead
Going round and round the loop of history
Reviving the past but silencing the future
Slaves of the clock's dance
Anxious for the encore and finale
But never thought to praise the show
Uncovering only in our very last breaths
That the empty pursuit has
Made the least of ourselves
"Clocks slay time... time is dead as long as it is being clicked off by little wheels; only when the clock stops does time come to life." -William Faulkner