If man had never invented the measurement of a life’s span would we live forever?
The heavy second hand is a thunderous roar. Its metered tone divides the time allotted; Neatly slicing and dissecting the portion doled out in minute particles that history will collect as a footnote in the summation of a life. No weight known to man is heavy enough to slow the tempo of truth. From the first breath to the last there is a schedule to be followed, estimated time of arrival and departure written in stone. Through out this scenic circular journey we march on parade to the chorus of time.