An hour glass waits silently to be upturned to hold a mortal's fate,
And a pair of white-tinted spectacles lie blind.
A wooden desk within a musky library, dark from being unused
As a light flickers on behind a door.
A man in a chair holds his book high
His specs forgotten in a dark library.
The leather couch sticks to the skin of his neck
As his gray hair turns another shade of white.
He closes his book, then, inserting his favorite bookmark,
Opens the door to the library.
Replacing the book in its rightful spot, he looks at the hour glass
And giggling like a little boy of 6, he turns the glass
Watching white sand spill to the other empty world
Suffocating flames of life.
Time passes, and the light behind the door fades
And all that's left is a leather couch, and some books
That never meant a thing to the world.

"All he ever wanted was a little time alone,
All he ever wanted was a little time to dream
All he ever wanted was to kick up dust and sand
All in a world that time passed by in screams."

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I wanted to try something new...rhyming only goes so far.

-Leah