The sands of time continue to fall.
Constricts hands, feet and heart.
Desire for the should haves.
As lost in the past miseries.
Sift through the sand.
A search for the smallest of entities.
Hope. Accomplishment. Any at all?
The angry river; beckoning the Reaper.
Fight through the froth.
A whirlpool forms.
Tugging at your entire being.
To sink or swim.
I refuse. To sink.