21 A Waste

Hours pass by,

As I think of the morning sky.

Wasting my time,

not understanding why.

What stands as true,

Is no longer pretty.

Life is sad,

In constant melancholy.

I'm fighting over to beat the ride of life,

twelve thousand bottles of wine,

one beer bottle of strife.

That strife brings me down,

And makes me lose my power.

If time is eternal,

Why does it devour?

-APOPHIS