Well?

Do you wait until it turns its back, grab it by the neck?

Try your best to strangle it, or blugeon it to death?

And once it throws you off, do you become a nervous wreck?

Or do you stand up, proud and tall, and swear under your breath:

"Bring it on, I dare you, I won't rest until you die!"

And launch yourself upon the beast with malice in your eye?

And if it were that time still lived, no matter how you try

Would you keep on giving everything until it made you cry?

Or do you take another route, and let time kill itself?

Take a seat, and just perhaps, a book from off the shelf

Do you follow other sheep in vain, amass a hefty wealth?

Or do you focus on your friends, your heart, and even on your health?

And do you feel some sorrow, as time decides to hide?

For finally, you realise, that despite how hard you tried

You never really wanted it to ever pass you by

Time's still standing, aging on, while we're the ones that die

(And now it holds that damn last laugh, as you're slipping from this life

How did you decide to kill the time with only a blunted knife?)