Loathing in a sea of loneliness, placid, serene, a place I call “home”. Is it too late? or is it too early? I ask myself whilst staring at the seconds passing by…
Constantly moving, slipping further and further away till another minute’s gone, and then it starts again. The blood rushes, coursing through my veins as I struggle to seize the moment, but I fail.
“Carpe Diem” they say, but my every moment is spent wasted. As every second turns to minutes, every minute turns to hours, every hour turns to days, and on and on it goes until I’m dead.
Is it too late? or is too early? I ask you now hoping you could answer me.
Some rights reserved. This work is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.