Time, a fragile thing, flows through fingers like water
Yet is also destructive, burning life like fire.
We try in vain to chase it but it's an endless race
There is no escaping from Death, no saving grace.
You know it is there, piercing your heart like a knife
When you are reaching the final hours of your life.
You say your last words as the bells of heaven ring
The clock of time slows as the angel spreads its wings.