Hour glass

This world contains empty bottles of complete and utter nothingness 

or perhaps we're all just hour glasses waiting for the final grain of sand to slip through

how long can one wait until the glass cracks under pressure, sand spills out like ink dropped on a white surface

I've seen the end

the flash of white light blinded your soulless eyes, nothing but a myth. 

A void of darkness swallowing you whole, fingers made from ice gripping your throat, eliminating your breath

I can smell the hunger for life from the desperate weepers upon the ground. Their final grain is falling through but they wish for the grains to multiply by sheading tears in hope for regeneration of time. The sand enslaved to the hourglass takes its toll as the fire sets in, burning what ever ounce of life is left within.

Can we escape the fate of our emptying vessel made from glass, if we run along the clock tower, can we stop the hands from flinging to the next minute, and the minute after that?

Fear is not my fate

I do not fear what is destined to become, every hour glass empties to the bottom for a reason, someone tips the hour glass to start the time.

God tipped our hour glass to start our life.

Reviews

[Jack O]

Logan's run is a story about people that try to reborn at 35. Soilent green is a potato chip. It is tasty.
I should have just typed to you, I like this. I find it well written.

[Ghoul]

hahaha Now i understand and thankyou!

[Jack O]

Logan's run? Or all we all just solient green?

[Ghoul]

umm I'm slightly confused about what you mean