nonfiction

Every moment can't remain and every life
won't stay the same. With time comes a
layer of rust and our bones will turn to dust.
Everyone will fall away and every season is
built on change. With time the paint will peel
and all sense will lose it's feel. Every cloth will
start to fray and every night will become day.
With time a mold will form and what's cold
can become warm. Every love can't always
stay and the dead will soon decay. With time
we'll all be gone but how you lived can live on