Today is born when yesterday dies
**** today and then comes tomorrow
Burying today with all its sorrows  
Yesterday is the best place to hide.
As if killing time is a vicious crime
Floating in the current of bygones
Dwell on rich prospect of high tides
Seconds march on with monorhyme.
Life is not, but running in this flat circle
Are we killing time or time is killing us?
Trying to solve an already solved riddle
I humbly beseech, what is all this fuss?
If day and night is a monotonous rhyme
For what we celebrate or mourn a chime?