Time is a fickle thing

no one seems to have enough
oh how it slows when times are rough

birds have all the time to sing
oh how much joy time can bring

the more you wish it could slow
the faster it seems to go

oh how time can slip by
no one knows the reasons why

there is only twenty four hours in a day
so don't let your time slip away

Fear
and
dying

Here
be
lying

Heed
my
plea

Tonight
I'll
be
free

Scratchy rigid branches brushing textured skin.
An array of harmonic creatures exclaim their melodious tune
throughout the sprawling mossy bramble.
Droplets trickle seep absorbed by leafy underbrush.
Gentle fog engulfing rhythmic swaying towering cedar giants,
Lucid amongst piercing golden rays.
Forever the unknowing growing, growing
My frozen heart slowing, slowing.
Winter’s icy chill stealing my final breath.
Feeling the warmth drain from my frigid soul.