Tic-tac

Tic-tac, tic-tac. The world never stops. Even when we stop, or when we try to stop. The all-might time is always there, reminding those that can listen to its whispers about the inevitability of the future, and, most cruelly, of the end. Thus, faced with reality, we can't help but thinking that life, whilst being an inspiring torch on the world of impossible-things-made-real, is nothing but a precious thing we have somehow managed to borrow; indeed something so special and valuable that sooner or later we will somehow fail and have it taken away from us all-together. And yet, even if life itself has no meaning at all, and even if it will always be taken away in the most cruel, sudden ways, we can always look up, way past ourselves and into the light and heat that populate the night sky which we call stars - for those are the reminders that no matter the distance, or whether they are already gone, we know that because they mattered so much, they will always be a part of us, for they are the reasons we are who we are. Life is a tic-tac in a clock and then it's gone, and yet its memory and influence lives forever, as long as there are stars, as long as there is live, as long as there is hope.