A poem for the uninspired

Each and every second slips by beyond the grasp of the faint of heart
Once the master of time as one accumulates its fleeting drum beats not subject to its ever persistent
beckoning

From hither you wait pressing close to the time left to dwell here on this plane of existence
Each gasp of breath each heart beat each rush of blood through your veins heralds a unyielding call to
come home an never more be concerned with the ravages of time.