Rampant and elusive,
It grows abundant and becomes conclusive.
Something we cannot touch, yet is all around us,
An element which documents our existence.
It envelops us with its boundaries and deadlines,
For sufferers it’s cruel, for the fortunate it is kind.
For many there is never enough to be had,
For the eager, its pace may be considered a lag.
Some count it down for great moments they wait for,
While others cling desperately, in last breaths, begging for more.
Where does it go? So often repeated,
From life through death, it is constantly depleted.