The hourglass isn’t yet filled, but it’s already begun
The heavy steps on the sand kissing his feet
Wind blowing, delicately moving the granule blanket
The young man now turned old
He’s weathered it thus far on the outside
Strong, but inside the toll ages the soul
Until finally, he collapsed
Defeated and cannot go on anymore
The old man lies in the sand, at peace
Fate accepted, found in the Set
And as the sand rolls over the old man
A smile appears. He is at peace knowing it’s done
No more, and the blanket gently covers him
To protect him, like he knew he should’ve Inside
Novatourist 