None to Blame

In shadows deep where moments slip,

Unseen tides of life quietly drift,

We chase the breeze with fleeting grip,

Wasting time on whims, adrift.

The clock’s soft tick, a distant chime,

We linger lost in trivial mime,

While days dissolve in streams of grime,

Blaming fate for our decline.

Our fingers grasp at wisps of air,

Blind to gifts that lie so near,

Voices whisper, “Do not dare,”

Yet we squander dreams with careless flair.

The mirror shows a face so worn,

Of aspirations, now forlorn,

Circumstances, our cruel scorn,

Masking choices we have torn.

How vast the void where hope resides,

In every minute lost, it hides,

Yet blame’s soft echo ever guides,

While time’s own river swiftly glides.

Embrace the now, the fleeting light,

For in the present, futures bright,

The past’s mere shadow fades from sight,

As moments pass, in silent flight.