Time like a weaver,
Weaves the veil,
With the yarn of failure and disappointment;
Encapsulates you like a shroud.
Feeling restricted and limited,
Silent tears burn track on your cheek;
In the hopelessness of your helplessness,
Inertia reminds you of your being alive;
you sprout nails of hope,
And shreds filaments into pieces;
Escapes from this woven prison,
Till time captures you again.