Sands of Time
Death is holding an hour glass for each of us.
Each grain of colorless sand falling is a moment of our lives,
Burned with precious moments or wasted with selfish remarks.
Life falling away with every grain.
Most don't know it.
The sands of time are telling the story of your untold death.
They'll tell us if you were selfish or loving.
If you were evil or good.
Vile and mean or sweet and kind.
Each selfish moment a blackened grain of sand,
each precious memory written in red blood,
Each loving caring and sweet moment painted snow white.
Your hourglasses are riddled with black sand and written memories.
Where are the pure white crystals we all should strive for?
At the bottom of the ocean with the lovely people that die for others everyday.
