Here's an original poem/philosophy I wrote a couple years back. Hope you dig it, thanks for reading!
It doesn't cease, speed, or slow. Truthfully, that time even exists is questionable at best, being seemingly feasible only when measured from an internal perspective.
Yet when observed does it not slow to a crawl? Seconds ticking by in the guise of minutes, and those to hours. When cast aside won't it rush by with indifference? As though it were a tidal wave sweeping past, leaving no evidence save the debris it carried and alterations it made to the setting.
Even those without faith serve time. Rushing to and fro, fulfilling individual agendas, and revolving around clockwork. Created within time, by time, all the while serving it's purpose with fervor. So is not the god they serve, their creator, in fact time itself?
Is it possible that time is akin to hierarchy? Seconds the infantry men, minutes their sergeants, hours the captains, and days their generals? Weeks might be countries, months their governments, years the people, and the world that's lasted eons. Is the movement of time then a monarch of worlds?
When we spend time in leisure, some call it a waste. Yet yet when we work or play, we call it well spent. However, it passes by regardless of how we describe it. We only have so much time offered to us, should we not spend it in the ways that please us most? Make others smile and enjoy the moments for what they are, precious seconds that we'll never get back. We're only offered the chance to observe, and remember.
Hope you all enjoy it, follow me for more writing and original music!!! Photo credit goes to 
