Destiny has a funny way, Of taking back control, By the death of me I will finally say, That I somehow reached a soul... As I master time every second chimes, In this race around the clock, To leave fast behind this unholy bind, While I'm begging that it stops... Then I take command of the minute hand, Way before my hours due, It's the shortest span that I understand, That's still contemplating youth... But is every wrinkle I confirm, Explaining once again, Its just a log of no concern, Contained within my skin...? Though my body stopped believing, That it would ever master time, My soul lives on conceding, To the master of its kind...