Old age is an expectation
The reality is a gift
Tides change
Storms turn to huricances
Waves crash onto the shores
Pulling at the sands of time
Adjusting them
Sometimes slowly
Sometimes the change is drastic
A new landscape
Or complete destruction
Perhaps a small island lays offshore
A sanctuary an offering of precious researves of time
Will it survive the next storm?
You sail around it
Carefully navigating the rocks,
A surprise
Your family are on the banks
Building a wall
Making a safe haven
Perhaps futile but they try
They will carry grains in their pockets
They will try and manipulate your sands
Guardian angels bound to a mortal existence
Unaware of their wings
The halos might be crooked
Perhaps they are flawed
But for me they have already provided a saving grace, their duties are complete
For a mortal soul is not infinate
And bones turn to dust
For fate is something no one controls
My time will come
But when it does
I will not be alone
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