The faucet is still dripping.
The Hourglass of Life keeps the spilling sand
From being what it wants most to be...
A beautiful sand castle.
An endless sigh is slipping
From her soul, through cracks in her heart,
Paying homage to the indignant gods
Of lost love and broken dreams.
Tears are still falling
Down from her sore eyes,
Sore for the sight of you,
Over her sore lips;
Sore from the thought of how
In the past they were kissed.
Colors are still turning,
The ancient death of Mother Nature,
And the death of everything
Can never last forever.