The chimes and the rhymes of the clock,
resent the presence of me;
Bangs surreptitiously the melody of the mock,
lecherous and sublime, a part of we;
Rocking the cradle of the lost time,
I part with the life I held dear,
I lost the grip of the handle, and the twine,
and as I left with the agony of forlorn FEAR!
I pick up the bundle of joy,
embraced with the rosy cheeks; and life,
I take her in my hands, and her toy:
secretly moaning a cry, I look to my wife;
And she says:
If destiny had such an atrocity upon us.
so be it! We will survive,
You have me and I have you, thus,
our life we lived, we will revive,
Tears roll down her eyes, wide with crimson rue,
I pat her hands: and kiss her smeared face,
I don't know what to say, I am lost without a clue,
it just dawned upon me: I have lost the race.
