Host

Tick tock, tick tock
it's not much longer now
a body once full of life
drained of it's own essence

How mortally tragic
this broken life falling
slipping through our fingers
the sands of time tossed asunder

We build our kingdom of caskets
never knowing which nail will be our last
carefully constructing a tower to nothing
all the while recklessly and unconsciously
digging our own grave

Our attachments become our assailants
our connections become our coffins
our body, merely a host
our love becomes our demise