A Voice

Connect dot-to-dot: make a line.
From the beginning, to the end of time.

Life leaves us with every grain of sand.
With each tick and every tock we're taken further from this land.

We wield the instrument that brings our end.
Into the abyss, our lives, we send.

Trivial is the fight to survive,
Because in the end you can't come out alive.

How you live this enigma is your own choice,
But at least leave behind an echoing voice.