Poem -

The Body of Death

Time that flows, cold and slow like ice, creeping over the body of death 

Time that burns away every thought , every feeling, every action, racing and blazing across the body of death 

Time that falls like stones down mountains, rolling and crashing and clamoring to cover the body of death

Time that ticks away like sand in an hourglass, marking the time when we all become one with the body of death 

Everything washed away by the ticking, ticking, ticking, that marks the passage of the body of death

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