Crimson Hour

The treachorous ticks of all that will happen

Will bring all of us to our knees

For time is a cruel and vindictive master

That no foolish mortal can please 

It sucks away breath

And kills without violence

An agent of death 

Speaks threatening silence 

What cannot be helped is all that is wrong

The echoes of seconds that is lifes song

The wick of my vim will blaze and then flicker

Oh time it kills all, though the others are quicker.