Time,
Who shall I blame mine on?
This thing so intricate,
Endlessly flowing throughout the world around us.
It does not turn back for anyone.
What is it about this force that gets us everyday?
To unto whom shall I document my legacy on this thing.
This force, this object, this phenomenon we base our lives off of.
This cage we imprison ourselves in, Why? For what purpose?
This thing can only bring sorrow when its our turn to face
This thing we call time.