Skeletal fingers
claw at the hour glass
the scythe swings impatiently
time is on no ones side

cold depths
6 feet down
or flaming heat
and a silver urn

the ravens beaks
tapping, tapping
dark wings flap
in the black night

an escaping howl
from the wolf pack
running, running
feel the breath on heels

the sand continues to fall
the minutes pass
hopes and prayers
do nothing

Just live
in the moment