Oh sweet Melancholy,

Thou art named Time.

For this sad day,

'Twill never be mine.

-

And time, sometimes quick though it is,

Will never fly.

But it will always move,

And Move with life.

-

Time moves sometimes quickly.

It sprints at times, and at others walks.

Although 'tis always silent,

For time never talks.

-

Some tell of how it flies,

But I must always disagree.

For flying is for that which is graceful.

And time has no grace, believe me.

-

Time is immortal.

Yet there is not a more serial murderer.

I wonder why death has not taken it,

For there is no one worthier.

-

But time lives on,

For how long, no one knows.

Even time itself cannot take a guess.

And it shows.

-

Second after second,

Time is merciless.

Thinking only of itself,

It kills those in distress.

-

Some call time a hero,

Melancholy is its true form.

Every tear that has been shed,

Is on time's back, so worn.

-

Time has me on chains,

Slowly killing me.

As it goes on,

I await the day that I am free.

-

One day,

One question will be on mine lips:

"Where hath all this time gone?"

Will ask I, with mine hands on mine hips.

-

For time will have flown.

And mine time will be up.

Time will be over,

And 'twill know this is enough.

-

Mine life will be over,

This day will be done.

Freedom will take over,

And this world will be gone.

-

Time is the limit,

Time is key.

When time is gone,

All will be free.