By the Second
 

Each passing tics that floated by
So echoed the cries of heart-beats
In time’s briefness, on a mounted
Clock – following the second hand
Revolve cycles of moments through,
Brief, but dissolving into time’s past.

Why must the world stop, and reach
Completely still, halting time’s flow:
Founded by a love, have I not been?
Can cherished joys never ever stop,
Through time’s briefness, in love:
Lasting forever, out of time’s reach?