Today I tasted time
It was a taste I could barely describe
Was it sugary or the grains were bitter
Was it drenched with tears
Or syrup of excruciating pain.
Perhaps it was the nectar of memory
Or the only rain of this century
Won't pour for another hundred years
Was it whiskey like never brewed
Or even if it had, I've never tasted before
It stayed on my tongue only for a moment
Before I could feel it, it vapourised.
Perhaps its lifetime was merely a moment...
They usually are... Aren't they?