Our life is time ticking, tirelessly ticking.
Though one must wonder what’s to come,
One shan’t find one’s fate eagerly waiting.
The shackles of time keep me bound.
A reality with a trajectory hidden
Makes me wonder if I will be around
To feel the gentle breeze or ever become smitten.
If patience shall be your abode from hells
That you imagined with great ingenuity,
Remember that as this poem’s twelfth line tolls.
A child fears darkness, the striking ambiguity,
But we fear time ticking, tirelessly ticking.