Sands drain on a onyx scythe, like tears of time,
But only life will bleed in form, your moments
Flicker like everyone before, I seek your vision
As my blank stare corrodes your breath.

I can play tricks with your moment, linger those
Seconds, cautious beats of a time. Like kings and
Beggars before I will take what is owed ever ounce
Of numbed essence now yours sands are mine.

Each grain dropped, my scythe will taste your
Soul, and all that will fall is a wilted form. presumption
Was misinformed that this wasn't mine to be given,
You are a vessel of grains and your just ran out.