Shifting sands as the tide crawls up the weather-beaten bay. In the inky black of night, at the end of every day.
Time goes rolling on and on, that is always so. But when the thread is coming to and end, where do we all go?
To dust? To heaven? Or somewhere beyond the veil? In the end nobody knows and only time will tell.
The bitter dancer, death itself, will come and be by your side. All that can you really do is relax and go with pride.
Death is just but another path, we must walk my friend. But why does that mean that it has to be the end?
Every thought, memory or word spoken means that they live on. Who really knows what has happened to those forgone.
Cherish the days gone by and love those who you hold dear, as at the end of it all, everything is fleeting we will all disappear.