A seed is planted,
The bark toughens,
The stem branches out...
The fallen fruits rot,
The bark wrinkles,
The branches grow higher...
The eternal onset of time,
As the sand escapes the funnel of the hourglass.
Invert and repeat for every empty bulb.
A life, progressing from *birth,
Ending at decay.
Time, she plays her tune-
Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-...
Like a metronome set to 60 BPM;
Never stopping, ever stomping on,
Oscillating to the mechanical rhythm of Time's pendulum,
Journeying to a finite end on a path set up to infinity.
*Time, she is proof, that we are alive--
Proof that decay hunts down the living...