Time of death, rearranging

Time itself, gently changing

Reordered and then put back out

Those dying should we cry about?

Pulsing, silent, broken souls

A casual game with the heaviest tolls

And who are we to bitch and shout

When dying is all that gets you out

Fallow slowly, drift away

Eroding cliffs lost to decay

We are left no where to stand

And fall like shadows into deaths black hand