Mortal Metronome

Be-beating in my bosom like a time bomb waiting to explode with crimson coated copper-veins and no deactivation code. Fl-fleeting from my carnal coat, the life I was bestowed at birth; with every passing second it diminishes in earthly worth. Sl-sleeping unaware of this, the fact that every breath I take is gravitating me towards a most inevitable fate. Dr-dreaming of a future where my mind's desires blossom true, unsure if I will have the strength to carve that path and see it through. Wa-waking from a hardy sleep, I leap from bed into the hall: eight hours I had slept that night, eight hours toward my casket-call. Sh-shining happily outside, the sun grants me another day to walk amongst the still-alive, at least until I pass away. Tu-turning are the hands of time, a minute grows into an hour; each passing day I wither like the petals of a dying flower. Ti-ticking all my life away, a subtle process we all share; although, I find it comforting that such a fate is strictly fair.