Lying beneath a crimson sky turning to grey, the sands of time slowly vanish as the cold winds blow across the earth. Memories fade like shadows until nothing remains except a longing for ages gone by. Time runs out, it never waits to pass through the spirit, marches on and on and on, further forward, even after its sands run out. The mind slowly slips away as it waits for time's curse to be lifted off the soul, but time still marches further forward, the sands draining through the heart, so hollow and empty, cursed forever by the hourglass of life. Minutes pass with each blink, seconds pass with each grain of sand, moments pass by as a flash right before the eyes. Each day is a gift, each month is a blessing, every year is a countdown to the end of the sand's draining. Time moves further still, forward even after the last grain of sand passes through the spirit like a lightning strike. Further forward.  Even after the best things happen, they are just sands spilled from the hourglass that can never be regained, lost forever in the deepest parts of the mind. Further forward, after the young heart grows to be a decaying spirit. Further forward, after the final heartbeat, after the last grain of sand spills out into the cold winds, blowing with them forever. Further forward, after the dying breath, after the sands of time have almost vanished. They are going, going, going, and gone...