Last Sands

October 28, 2008
The last sands of his hourglass fall
Followed by the cold rain and Death Angel's call

The taste turns bitter as the night beats day

Because he

Played God on a shooting star
Sailed across the cosmos but still didn't get far

Then had the nerve to ask for another
To examine his growing and countless mistakes

And he

Caught on just a little too late
Was an inch from the door to escape the fate

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