Stasis
A standstill, Advancing forward, While remaining Where One Began. A vicious circle, Hopes and dreams In Overdrive While life Is in Neutral, Clinging to a Future As insubstantial As The space Between Seconds A past Everlasting, Haunting the Present. A present Of grinding Ambition. Of tenacious hope Of bittersweet Memories Sugarcoated With the longing To relive What one cannot. When does The past become The present become The future? When does The future become The present become The past? Life -- The mysterious, The insubstantial, The spark. To live is To Dream. To die is To not. Without hope There is nothing. Without hope There is only The perfect Silence Of Death. Dreaming, We spend Each second Free from The bounds Of Reality Awake, We live. Each minute Rushing into The next. A forgone Conclusion A tale told A thousand Times Before. Yet we Continue Onward. Through Fate's Revolving Door. Each Life A fingerprint -- Different, Yet, The same. The loops And Whorls Change But the Flesh Beneath Remains the Same. Bleeding Red, As the Clock Ticks Slowly Patiently Silently Time slipping Through Our fingers Never to be Recaptured Never to be Relived The clock Ticks Inexorably On. Immutable, Immeasurable, Immaculate. The Master Of us ALL. Home