Cracking stones

Elderly left to nursing homes

 

Mountains tumble

Cities crumble

All due to the changing ocean tide

 

If moon's phases never changed

And loved ones' faces failed to age

I'd loose myself from opaque cage

And no more falling skin and gray hairs hide

 

But leaders fall

Both short and tall

Crushed by ticking on the wall

 

Withered hands

No longer stands

Skin like stretched out rubber bands

While hair falls out in straggly strands

Bequeathed to youth, the emperor's lands

For fearing the loss of his hourglass' sands

 

Preferring death to one's own drone

The final hour, he cried alone