Tick-Tick

A song that passes through me,
A feel of the summer sun on my skin,
A breeze that gather's no warmth,
A knowledge gain that time does not stand still.

I have it all lined within me,
Yet still, I stand against this.

Cause once the clock stops
There is no setting it again.
The hands will not move,
The air will go stale.

Truly, time most stop.
And that, will surely be the end of that logic.

The tick-tick will be the last sound.