rising,
fading,
into an endless cycle,
of life and death.
Death, which does not tire
And so life not wade
Nor the fashion of
this loop that lapses.
And lapses
And lapses
Till the end.
Even this ink yearns to cease
So am I this stolen
This clock broken!
This endless cycle of life and death,
This broken clock that lapses,
And lapses and lapses.
