Fast or slow in equal measure,
with ticks or tocks to keep the beat,
Friend to some or foe forever,
until the bitter end they meet.

Here today and gone tomorrow,
never missed until too late,
A treasure then for some to borrow,
To keep themselves from pearly gates.

All things old and all things new,
Will have today to call their own,
But soon shall fade in rustic view,
With ticks and tocks to call them home.

Greeting them with gentle rest,
The guiding hand that wrote their tale,
Saying then to what is left,
"Your time is up, was it spent well?"