On the projection of time

The tendrils of time
lead a mire mortal
to his death
in the promise…..

more time.

The grim reaper
only a messenger
sent to collect:

everyone is given
a sentence to run with
the full stop comes later,
some call it the end.

There is never time owing
nor is time bought
just time spent.

We are all
prisoners living in today
waiting for tomorrow
to break out.

If time flys
it’s better spent
elsewhere.

It’s time to go.