Time

Time is a sieve through which everything slips what once mattered rendered meaningless as our lifeblood drips onto the clay creating a muddy bog that in our well worn boots we wearily slog like tired Tommies in the trenches waiting with bated breath for the shrill sound of the officer's whistle to pierce the fusty fetid air and send us surging over the top in a futile foray where we will meet our final fate that in our wasted youth we failed to contemplate