Oh what a slippery thing you are,
Always near, permanently far

A tightrope made of sharpened glass,
I wonder how long whilst walking along you,
Our time will last.

You have taken many away from us,
And given us countless more
You are a maze that ends with a locked door.

What lies behind you no one knows.
Infinite love and joy?
Or never ending nothingness,
Akin to before the last memory before I was a little boy?

Oh what a cruel and capricious thing you are,
You number our days,
and push the memories of us afar.

After the final thought of us has been had,
We dissapear into the ever turning hourglass,
Just another forgotten grain of sand.