Time. It ticks always, forever lurching forward. At times, there's not enough. At others, too much. But it really never changes, no matter how slow or fast it appears to be moving. It's constant. Like a steady drumbeat that goes on forever, it continues on. When all else surrounding it ceases to exist, time will remain.
It's similar to a heartbeat. No person has control over it. It exists to serve one purpose and one purpose only. Thump. Thump. Tick. Tick. Their pulses give order to life, creating a rhythm that cannot be broken.
But, time is very different from a heartbeat in one particular area: a person can choose to end his life. He holds the power to stop his heartbeat, killing the pulse in his body that created such a sense of order and security. All of that can be ended by his choice.
But, he cannot end time.
Time is ruthless. It never stops, always tolling onward in some way or form. Time shows no sympathy or mercy with those who seek to end it. It cares for nothing of a person's struggles and heartache.
It continues to tick.
And, no matter how much a person tries to plead and somehow reason with time, ask it to stop for just the slightest second, nothing changes with time. It painfully ticks, like a purple bruise that doesn't seem to go away. The person can beg, but it is pointless. He could have the most broken heart or shattered life. He could just need time to stop for a minute, to let him catch his breath. He could ask for complete the non-existence of time, wishing he could slowly fall away into nothingness.
Time wouldn't care. Time forces him to continue marching on, not pausing to rest but simply dragging his feet behind him, trying to finish the race. He races forward until exhaustion consumes him, and even then he continues.
Will time beat the best of him?
There is no end.
Tick. Tick.