TimeA Poem by Aislinn Gryffin ((Ashes))In a dream I saw this...
A room, barren and cold. A huge clock against one steel-gray wall.
A clock that never ends.
The never ending movement of the hands.
The never ending tick-tock.
A clock that won't stop.
And across it's black face its name is etched for me to see.
Its name is Time.
It has always existed and always will exist.
In the next room are hourglasses stacked upon shelves. The sand makes a rustling sound as it falls.
These are your time.
How you use it you decide.
As a person dies, their hourglass falls.
For a second the floor is bathed in sand,
Then a new hourglass rises from the floor, as a new person is born.
The sand gathers into the hourglass as it takes its place upon the shelf.
Is that all we are? Hourglasses on a shelf? Or are we something more? You decide that for yourself, but I will say one thing: Use your time wisely-the amount in the hourglass is all you have...you can't change that. Even if you could- would you?
Think carefully before you give your answer......
© 2009 Aislinn Gryffin ((Ashes))Author's Note
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