The Zine The Time Edition | Page 13

12

“Ah what a good night,” I declare to the world.

I stare at the clock on my wall and think.

As time goes on we find our hopes our dream our faults.

Maybe I just found too many faults – It is a shame.

The clock is ticking down on us while we try to find our talents.

I’ve wasted enough time to hear the season come and go.

Should I stop? The thought has passed my mind to end the night,

but tonight I just want to try a little harder.

After all, I know my time will run out sooner or later and I want to make a mark somewhere.

But on the other hand I could accept my life as fate-less.

As the question of my choices rages in my head, the clock is still ticking – reminding me,

Sigh, I really don’t have that much time, do I?

I consider lying down to forget, as I have every night,

but today I feel like staying up, unlike the other nights.

I go to grab another cup of coffee and hope it makes a difference.

The ticking of the clock feels a bit louder as to grab my attention.

I notice it’s already been a few hours extra into the night.

I often wonder why I do this to myself, but as I said, my time is probably not too far off.

I’ve done what I can, I have tried all I could, but unfortunately the time is not on my side.

It truly never was.

But at least my luck will strike some gold somewhere and I will make my name known.

And time will no longer be against me for my legacy will make me immortal.

Ha! Hopes and dreams – I hope they can last against the sands of time.

I change the comfort of my chair for my bed, but during the exchange I trip.

Apparently, my fall was quite the fall, for something fell off my desk.

It was one of my newer journals. I haven’t touched it in at least a half a year though.

Half the pages are blank, and the other half filled with words of a prideful soul of the past.

I grab my pen and write in one of the blank pages, “Lets try this one more time.”

Hoping that I will read it in the dawn of a new day.

I go to drop it back on my desk and look at the time again.

Another hour gone.

Believing I did all I could, I go to the bed and just plop.

As I lie there, I let my mind drift, staring up for what seems like an eternity,

but finally I rest my eyes and let Time win for today.

I let my thoughts fade along with this night,

and I whisper these last words, “At least the night is still young.”

Fading Time

Gavino Zuniga