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Woke up from my sleep

I have lost another spring

I am over

Time is not

The checkered couch is opened wide

Our hero gathers fat

Stuffed and sloth, he lies there, idle

Trapped by screens and internets

Years of sagging into visions

Crippled in the sense of practice

Smug by pseudo facts

Nestled in the always ceasing future

“Don’t you mind those weary eyes

It’s just time passing by

A day alone will surly die

Yet we got lots to live our lives”

Our skin will soon creased

But “Hey it’s OK”

We still have lots of time to waist

Ever since the primal waking hour

I had tried to justify my own existence

I am grieving for a hunger that would never rest

I hear the beating of a clock within my chest

Tick tock tick tock

Who will stop a running clock?

Spinning hands are spinning knives

That chisel in my face, new lines

The hunting ghost of yesterday

Seeks revenge through circling needles

I am repressed to do as the saying

Of a complex naked god

The higher windows always screaming

Always squeaking their command

You got to do as told

You got to do as told

I watch the hourglass refilled

But my chapter ends and folds

I am over – time is not

Dulled by the looming sunset

Dazzled by the shiny gold

Who will bore the scorch of meaning?

And who will die with nothing to be told about?

I am over, time is not.

"For the living know that they shall die: but the dead know not any thing, neither have they any more a reward; for the memory of them is forgotten.

"As well their love, and their hatred, and their envy, is now perished; neither have they any more a portion for ever in any thing that is done under the sun."