Everything

don’t you know this time,

this moment,

is slipping away forever,

if you did,

you would not let go of it

quite so easily;

there is a weariness to it all,

as it slowly pounds away,

eroding and weakening,

to the point of extinction;

illusion exists,

but only for a moment,

revealing soft, hot, white shells,

as they really are and

they are very happy,

wallowing within their

silent ignorance,

blissfully unaware,

that there is more;

so much more;

everything has a beginning,

everything comes to an end;

that is the cruelest part

of it all.

.

.