That swirling chill in your visions, of what was or what is to be
the lies of life casting shadows, you cling to what you’ll never see
You lay empty in your bed of contempt UN-willing to concede you
lack the purpose to proceed.
The race between doubt and the blood rushing through your veins
is only out pace by your lack of gains, your mind mix and mingles
the wants and what is loss still your unable to identify the cost.
Will you pull up the anchor to your dreams, leave life’s harbor barely
making steam, What do you see when you withdraw into yourself when
all others see facade and nothing else.
Time demands from us all it cares not about who stands or falls it simply
records each day even the one you let get away. Time is never wrong it
will not inform you on the day before your gone.
What you waste is never returned, it can’t be bought, sold or earned
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