Let us waste the time we were gifted,
Let us joy of the useless notion of time,
Let us pray for a faster death
For we want that which we know
And we loath the possibility of unknown.
Let us imagine, for a second,
That life is more than time, as though
Alone we were not,
But in company of wasteful emotions
We were squandering the time we were doomed with.
For it is an endless awaiting,
That every single infinite second of our time,
Slowly arrives, and leaves quickly as a wasted moment,
In which we feel joyful of being closer to life, and its fleeting torture
Of being immortal for a too long duration.