A figment of imagination crawling through night day and evening.
Frisking through meadows of stiff hands and painted numbers, this concept so lightly known as time, has lived to contrive the clockwork behind the functioning world.
It doesn't stand still; for it plans escapes as swiftly as radio-waves.
Melting clocks tick away at the hourglass of our fate.
Grain by grain... time escapes the void we call life and deceases us through the midst of anamnesis and ideation.