What if everything slipped through my fingers and all I could grasp was your hand?
What if Time was used as the narrator of a story?
Would he be happy? probably not.
They think they can conquer or already have conquered me.
Slice me as if I were a piece of pie.
They worship me, with little round pans with tiny needles strapped around their wrists like hand cuffs.
Monuments are placed here and there. I am supposed to spin between twelve figures.
It hilarious to see how they think they can materialize me with mere metal, glass and wood.
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