One day the heart stops beating
The engine ceases to be
Life is but a glimpse
Fleeting
In the vast open sea
The waves keep crashing upon the eroding shore
The couple, once the teenage dream, hobble hand in hand
Across the time trodden land
The clock continues to strike each hour as before
The marching band continues to follow the lead
Their feet becoming sore
For when the heart no longer chimes
And the dust begins to settle
Will it be that you see the signs
That what is meant to be …
Hormonestogravestones 