Hours As Battlegrounds

Tick tock

Blink and you're gone

Eight billion portions

Of egos of epic proportion

Ludicrous bustling forage

Of omnivorous (time)

Cradle, grave

Sandstorm in the hourglass

Hours as battlegrounds, minutes as weapons

Seconds as bullets that pierce empty skulls

The curious case of John Doe

You never even lived and yet you die

You never even lived and yet you... die

Ambitious marriage

Of hydrogen and carbon

Daring to dream beyond

The puddle where it belongs

Uroboros invites you to his feast

RSVP

Funeral attire required