Time that is the enemy of purpose,
Breathing birthing nothing but burden of ageing,
Wasting the time, in shortage, which one regrets
when wrinkled and disabled,
Waiting for Grim to release from illness.
Alas, if sleep is the cousin of death,
This is dying and seeing death coming.
Life is short and making every single an eventful, admirable movie. Never experiencing a dull moment. Merely is impossible. If you can’t prove me wrong.
