It moves slow and fast. It is squandered and appreciated, depending on the scenario. We wonder where it has gone as we grow older and it reminds us of how quickly it has passed as the next generation grows before our eyes.
It cannot be held back, nor can it be stopped, although it has been described as standing still when disaster strikes. History has a never-ending story involving it and the future seems to hold the unknown entity of how long it will last.
Deals are won and lost on it and all this depends on its entity.
We toy with it in microscopic chasms during sport as it can dictate a win or loss teetering between heartbreak and triumph. We are all connected to it. We are shackled by it. There is never enough of it when we are busy and too much of it when we are idle.
From the moment we are born to the moment we take our last breath it ticks in unison within ones heart until our inner clock halts and calls it…
Time
mulysa 